


Kim Shimmers and the Veil of Death

by KFrancesAuthorExtraordinaire



Series: The Kim Shimmers Series [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Canon, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Care of Magical Creatures, Coming of Age, Death, Department of Mysteries, Divination, F/M, Hogwarts Inter-House Relationships, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), Non-Human Rights, Prophecy, Ravenclaw, The Deathly Hallows, creature rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-02-09 21:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 82,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12897705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KFrancesAuthorExtraordinaire/pseuds/KFrancesAuthorExtraordinaire
Summary: This fanfic is the 4th in the Kim Shimmers Series taking place during Harry Potter's 6th year [Halfblood Prince]. Kim and Fred have reached a happy, steady relationship over the summer, but being long distance brings out new unexpected difficulties while Kim is in school. With Dumbledore placing new responsibilities on her in relation to the Deathly Hallows, she barely has time to worry about her relationship anyway. With Harry's life in her hands, nothing else seems important anymore. Pouring into books about Death and the Deathly Hallows, Kim will find her mind in the darkest place it's ever been, and her shadows all the more haunted. The closer she draws to uncovering the truth, the closer she draws to death..."How could we ever hope to flicker on against adarkness so complete, against an evil so prevailing?





	1. Make it Double

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE ABOUT CONTENT: This story is taking place during the time of Harry's 6th year and contains some scenes from Halfblood Prince (though usually quite altered because they are from Kim's POV) However, in these scenes there are some instances of direct quotes used for character dialogue. I did this when Kim's actions wouldn't reasonably change the other characters' dialogue, but she would need to be present for something that was said. I did this to maintain the feelings that the characters ARE JK's character's in how they speak and act, and I kind of hope readers will even notice the quotes, if they're a super avid HP fan ;)  
> Furthermore, none of this content could in any way exist without the majestic JK Rowling, trumpets sound in the distance, drum rolls, we all applaud.

Chapter 1

Make it Double

The sounds of laughter and whizzing, wiring, clacking filtered in through the syrupy distance of sleep. Kim opened her eyes to see the foggy light of morning spilling through the half draped windows. _Fred really needs to get thicker curtains,_ she groaned internally, rolling over and stuffing her face in the pillow. But the damage was already done; she was awake and, judging by the cool sheets and the lack of depression in the mattress beside her, Fred had already gotten up.

She pulled herself upright after morning the end of sleep and stretched. She scanned the small room with its minimal floor space and lush, bright chartreuse carpet that didn’t match a thing. There were still a few boxes from where Fred had yet to fully unpack, clothes most likely, and odds and ends. But the majority of his things were fairly organized already, for having only been moved into the space for a month and a half.

Kim padded to the door, the sounds from the joke shop beneath still audible through the thin floor. There was an explosion of laughter and the sound of something tearing. She opened the door a creek to peek out into the shared kitchen and living room area. It was empty, thankfully, because lying at the foot of the couch was her trunk with all her clothes. She scurried across the linoleum and onto the carpet of the living room, opening her trunk hurriedly. She was only wearing Fred’s T-shirt at the moment, and a pair of underwear. She got changed hastily and went into the ice box, digging around for something to eat. There wasn’t much, and if she was lousy cook, she was even _worse_ when dealing with magical appliances. She was waiting for the day that wizard’s caught on to the invention of the microwave.

Deciding nothing was going to materialize itself in the kitchen she turned to face the empty living room with a sigh. It was a simple and small abode. The living room was open and rectangular, with orangey wooden paneling along the back wall, meeting with a faded yellow paint on the other walls. The furniture was plain, except for the throw pillows which George had found in a thrift store somewhere in Diagon Ally. They were knitted and made of a brilliant array of purples, greens, and yellows, forming a knotted pattern that was mostly indistinguishable. The curtains were the same thin ones that let all the light in, though now that she was awake, she quite appreciated how sunny they made everything.

With another sigh she headed out the door to the left side of the living room. It led into a short hallway with nothing but a storage closet and a broom stand. The stairs led down to the ample noise of the shop. Kim stepped into the large first floor, decked from top to bottom with joke supplies. Fred and George had made fast work of the place, not wasting any time to move in. Each corner of the shop was filled with odds and ends of a light hearted nature. Though, they _did_ sometimes tend to go too far with some of their products, like the Belching Blood Burners that made the victim vomit blood for twenty minutes strait which would then ignite the moment it had left one’s mouth, starting a chemical fire that was near to impossible to put out. Luckily they had her to tell them when their ‘joke’ items were more likely to land them in a law suit then pulling in laughs and cash.

“Awake, sleepy head,” came Fred’s familiar, chiding voice as he hopped up the stairs to the balcony where she stood.

She smiled and kissed him, saying, “Busy for this hour.” The shop was pocked with gaggles of young shoppers testing out new products, laughing and pointing at the many odd displays.

“Bus load of vacationers,” Fred said, nodding. “They’re on their way to the Slimy Nickers concert.”

Kim made a face, unaware of this musical group, and not all that interested in finding out what they sang about. He sighed and looked her up and down.

“You’re already dressed,” he said. “You’re not leaving now are you?”

“Not _now_ now. But I have to leave today.”

“You only just _got_ here!”

Kim had arrived at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes only two days ago, and she couldn’t deny that leaving already was torture. Being there with Fred and George, with nothing to fill their days but lounging around, jokes in the joke shop, pranking customers with products they would later _buy_ after seeing them demonstrated so expertly. They ate out on Diagon Ally and walked the streets at evening, seeing the sights and just enjoying one another’s company. It was better than Kim ever could have imagined. But she _had_ to see her mother and sister. She couldn’t just ignore them forever, and she’d feel guilty if she said she wanted to, no matter how tempting the offer might be. 

“I know,” Kim said, wrapping her arms around Fred’s neck and peering at him where he stood, at eye level due to his lower position on the stars. “And I don’t want to leave, but you know I have to.”

“I know, I know,” he was already saying, looking away from her and over the shop.

“And…” She was hoping he would finish her sentence for him, but he didn’t seem eager. “And you need to come and meet my mother.”

“Okay, let’s do it!” he said, but Kim could already tell from the high tenor in his voice that there was more he wanted to add on. “I just… well I feel bad leaving George behind,” he added matter-of-factly, but he was faking it.

“Oh, uh-hu,” she taunted with a smile. “You just don’t want to be stuck with me and my family all by yourself.”

“What? No, look, it’s not like I wouldn’t love to be with you alone,” he said, stepping up the stair so they were on level ground, lifting his eye level to well above hers. “But-…”

“But you don’t want to be alone with me _without George_ ,” she added, still mocking him with a smile as his negotiation face cracked and turned slightly guilty. She laughed and said, “Look, I don’t care. Bring him. Just, who’s going to watch the shop?”

Fred shrugged. “Verity can watch it,” he said, referring to their only employee that they’d hired a few weeks ago. She graduated in Fred and George’s year, though they hadn’t known her at all until she’d applied for their job opening at the beginning to the summer.

“Isn’t it a bit soon?” Kim said, and then George bounded up behind her suddenly.

“Too soon? Don’t tell me you’re getting married,” he said jokingly. Kim turned blankly to face him, and Fred didn’t say anything either, though Kim was sure it was quite by accident. George didn’t know this, of course, so his eyes widened with terror, taking their silence as confirmation. “Oh, great Merlin’s- you’re not—”

Kim’s snickering cut him off, Fred’s smile simultaneously hinting to him that he’d gotten the wrong idea.

“No,” Kim finally said. “We were talking about leaving Verity behind to watch the shop while you two come with me to meet my Mom.”

“Oh,” George said with a relief. “Well… I’m always up for an adventure, when do we leave?”

Kim chuckled. “You’re not worried about leaving her in charge?” Kim asked them both.

They looked at each other and made a face with their mouths turned down dramatically as they both said, “Nah,” and shrugged.

“Well, all right. Guess we can leave anytime then.”

“Oh! But before we go,” George said, pointing at Fred, “we should have her test the Lush-Your-Locks stuff!”

“What?” Kim said flatly.

“Oh! You’re right!”

“What _now_?” she moaned.

“Come on, we need your opinion on it, being a girl and all,” Fred said, leading her down the stairs and into the shop. They weaved through a group of laughing boys before they pushed through the swinging door into the back room. There was a small sitting area beside a desk with a filing cabinet. Fred, however, was leading her to the wide washing basin and the faucet across the room while George dove into a box in the storage room.

“What is this exactly?” Kim asked, arms crossed over her chest.

“Hair products, to get girls interested in the shop.”

“You know, there are plenty of girls that worry about other things _besides_ hair and love potion.”

“I know,” Fred said, putting his hand on the small of her back. “But there not all like you, love,” he said with a wink, making Kim smile despite herself.

“Yeah,” George agreed as he reemerged from the storage room. “Not all girls like digging around in the dirt for fairy eggs and centaur droppings and what not.”

“I have _never_ dug in the dirt for- well, not for centaur droppings, and the fairy eggs were because of _you_!” But they were both making sounds of joy, as if they’d caught her red handed. She rolled her eyes and laughed at them.

“Alright, put this on your head,” George said, handing her a velvet mahogany hat. It was very long and round, fully covering her entire scalp and leaving a helmet shaped hole for her face.

“Is this supposed to be a hat?” she asked, putting it on.

“Nope.” They both said, and their peevish smiles were making Kim nervous. She probably should have inspected this more closely before putting it on her head.

“What is it supposed to do?” she asked cautiously.

“Don’t worry,” Fred assured her, “we can undo it if you don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what?” she demanded, but then she felt a tingling sensation on her head. The hat was seemingly vibrating her head just slightly, sending numbing little tingles through her scalp. She looked down at her collar to where a few strands of her hair were visible, and it was _changing color_.

“What!” She grabbed the ends of her hair and watched as the blond vanished behind a very dark reddish brown. “Holly hell,” she breathed.

“It works!” said George.

Then suddenly the hat made a sneezing sound, and a sticky substance was splattered all down Kim’s back. She made a face of disgust and looked over her shoulder.

“Oh…” Fred said unfortunately. There was a great reddish-brown blob of slime dripping down her shirt. “Well, that wasn’t intended.”

“No, you think!”

“I really thought we’d worked out that bug,” George said, frowning and putting his hand on his mouth as if in thought, shaking his head.

“We better get this off, quick,” Fed said, lifting the hat from Kim’s head and setting it hastily into the water basin.

“Take off the shirt, quick, quick,” Fred urged.

“What? Why?” she said, not moving to take anything off.

“It’s going to get on everything!”

“I thought you said you could get it off!”

“On your hair,” George explained, making a pained face. “On other things…”

“Not so much,” Fred said, mimicking his brother’s expression. She growled in aggravation.

“Well, go get me another shirt. And a towel or something!” Kim snapped.

“Right,” Fred said, and dashed from the room.

“Turn around,” Kim muttered as she attempted to take the ends of her shirt in such a way that the sludge wouldn’t touch her skin. After much wriggling she managed to remove the shirt with only smearing a small amount on her shoulder. She dumped the shirt in the basin, assuming it was gone to her forever. _Ah well,_ she thought, staring at it, _such is the price of company like Fred and George._

“What is that?” George said blankly. There was something unexpectedly solemn in his tone that made Kim look over her shoulder at him. His eyes were boring into her back, and after a moment she realized he was staring at the ugly rippling gashes of mangled skin that formed the scars across her spine, from where Professor Umbridge had demonstrated her reign of terror. Kim turned, feeling exposed, so her front faced George, and then realized it wasn’t any better, wrapping her arms around her chest. He turned his head so he was staring of at nothing and swallowed.

“Did you always have those?” he continued. Kim hesitated. Fred of course already knew about the marks. He had found out soon after she’d arrived in much the same way George was finding out, though in a much more _intimate_ setting. Nothing kills a mood like having to explain to your boyfriend why your back is a mutilated mess. So she had been forced to tell Fred the whole story, but George was still completely unaware of just how dark things got after he and Fred left.

“No…” she finally said, and there was more silence. Kim could see the tenseness in George’s features from his profile. “It was Umbridge.” His eyes went wide.

“Sh- she… she did that to you?”

“Yeah. 15 lashes, though I don’t think she got through them all.”

George turned the rest of the way away from Kim, folding his arms and pressing a fist against his lips. He looked angrier then Kim had seen him in a long time. Perhaps since Malfoy had slung slurs about his mother, or the time Kim had been attacked by Miles Bletchley in her fourth year.

“What happened?” he finally asked, still staring at the wall his back turned to Kim. “What were you being punished for?” He said it like it was a question he already knew the answer to.

In this matter, Kim hadn’t given Fred the whole truth. She’d told him it was for hexing Malfoy, which was partially true. For some reason she felt a sudden urge to tell George the rest of it.

“For not giving you two up. It was the same day you both escaped…She wanted me to confess that you were the ones to set the fireworks,” she said, voice sullen. George tensed and punched the plushy chair, making Kim jump. “Don’t tell Fred, please. He thinks it was for hexing Malfoy. I don’t want him to…” But Kim couldn’t finish because she suddenly felt guilty for telling George either. It surprised her that he was clearly as effected by this news as Fred would be.

“We never should have left you,” he said. Kim wasn’t exactly sure what to say right away. She hadn’t been prepared for him to act this way.

“You didn’t have a choice… I wasn’t going to come with you.”

“But we could have stayed.”

“I-I couldn’t ask you guys to do that, I couldn’t ask Fred to—”

“But you shouldn’t’ve had to,” George said, turning to face Kim with his fists balled on either side of him. Kim stared at him, too shocked by the unrest in his tone to even be embarrassed for her half nakedness. His eyes searched hers, and in them Kim saw things she didn’t expect and yet somehow remembered... Longing, desperation, and as he bit down hard, his jaw tensing, twinges of pain as if something was hurting him. As if _she_ was hurting him.

Fred walked in then, brandishing Kim’s new shirt and a towel in hand.

“Uh…” he said, catching the intense looks the two were sharing before George broke away and turned to look at the wall. “I got the-… stuff, is everything… never mind,” he said, shaking his head as the moment passed. He handed Kim the shirt, which she took, feeling a bit shaken and confused.

“Okay, magic can’t get this stuff off, so,” Fred said, wiping her shoulder free of the gunk with the towel. It left behind a mahogany stain on her shoulder. Kim glowered at it and then shifted her heated gaze to Fred.

“I’m sorry! We’ll get it off, it’ll just take… some figuring… right George?” Fred asked, as if feeling the sucking void of George’s absence already, even though he stood in the same room but was merely not present. Not himself.

“Right,” George agreed, but it had none of the proper vigor to it. Still he turned back to face them, seeming as though he wanted to pull himself from his thoughts. Kim put her new shirt on as Fred eyed George with a bent brow.

“Anyway,” he said, “sorry about your shirt.”

“It’s fine, just trash it,” Kim said, tossing the towel into the basin with everything else. “Can we leave soon?” she said abruptly. “I’m getting hungry and there’s no food in your house.” It was true, but it wasn’t the only reason she felt in a rush to get going. She wanted to be on the move. She wanted things to go back to how they had felt a moment ago, and she was sure that the process of changing scenery would do that.

“Sure,” Fred said, almost managing to sound completely light. “Sure, let’s go get ready.”

They went upstairs and Kim packed the rest of her things. They took their time because with the time difference, it was still early morning in North Carolina. Kim looked in the mirror before they left and examined the dark reddish sheen of her hair. Strix flew over to Kim’s shoulder, also peering at their reflections in the mirror curiously.

“Don’t worry, we can undo that, George get the—”

“Well, wait a second,” Kim said, drawing her hands through the lengths of her wavy locks. The dark color made her pale skin seem robust and her eyes gleam.

“What?”

“I don’t know… I kind of like it…” Something about the dark shine of it went nicely with her black nails. She’d stopped with the dark eye liner since the end of the semester, but the black nails she’d decided to keep.

“You like it? Well keep it! It’ll be good to test the fade, it should last you a long time with no lessening in luster and shine!” he said like a salesman. Kim rolled her eyes and batted him away from the mirror, ready to begin gathering her things to leave.

***

“Well, she’s certainly going to get double what she bargained for,” Kim remarked with a smirk. She was staring at the doorway that would lead her and the twins from her Aunt Brit’s house in England all the way to her mother’s in America.

“Toil and trouble,” Fred said.

“Make it double,” George finished. Kim smiled and reached out her hand to tap the proper pattern on the doorway.

“So that’s it, that’s all you have to do?” Fred said in bewilderment. They didn’t have Bellhop in England, and Kim felt quite special showing them something advanced and new to them.

“That’s it. And viola!” She opened the front door to her aunt’s house, but on the other side was not the outside stoop they’d just come in from. It was a large hallway that didn’t make sense to fit inside the tiny apartment.

“Knock knock,” Kim said, stepping into the hall with Fred and George lugging her things behind her. “We’re here.”

“Oh!” came her mother’s excited voice from in the kitchen. Kim heard her stand and hurry into the hallway, eyes landing on the gathering. The twins stood up from setting down Kim’s luggage, raising to their full height. Her mother’s eyes followed them up, up, up…

“Well… I was only expecting _one_ ,” she said with a chuckle that broke into a full laugh as she added, “and here you’ve brought _two_!”

The twins laughed good naturedly in return, though Kim was sure they were well used to these kinds of jokes by now.

“Yes, yes,” Kim said, moving farther into the house toward her mother and opening her arms for a hug. “Only one of them is my boyfriend though,” she added with a laugh.

“Yeah, well that’s good,” she responded, eyeing the boys as Kim released her. “You’re hair!” She ran her hand down Kim’s locks.

“It’s easy to undo, don’t worry. It’s magic.”

“No, I like it!”

“Oh, well thank you.”

“Fred Weasley,” Fred said, jutting out his hand for her to shake. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Pleased to meet you too,” Mrs. Shimmers said, sounding impressed.

“George Weasley,” he mirrored the moment she had finished shaking Fred’s hand. “Equally pleased to meet you.”

“Well, you two really look exactly alike,” said Mrs. Shimmers.

“You’re looking at the proud owners of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Would you like to try a sample?” Fred asked, a twinkle in his eye.

“Uh, su—”

“Maybe not the best idea,” Kim said, eyeing Fred venomously.

“What? It was just a bit of fun,” he defended as Kim pulled her mother along down the hall and into the kitchen, the twins following.

“Well, what is it?” Mrs. Shimmers asked her daughter.

“Nothing good,” Kim said confidentially from the corner of her mouth.

“She’s always painting us in a bad light,” George said, their charming natures already getting them away with far more than they should be allowed.

“Don’t listen to her,” Fred agreed. “Bit of a stick in the mud, you’re daughter. She never does anything dangerous or puts a single toe out of line.”

Kim snorted at this, though her mother seemed pleasantly convinced. She chuckled like a person who didn’t quite get a joke and said, “Yes… that’s good.”

Kim cleared her throat, not wanting it to become any more obvious that Fred’s little joke was heavily implying Kim was, in reality, the _opposite_ of someone who never puts a single toe out of line. Her mother didn’t know anything about the dangers she’d faced, and she barley understood Kim’s ability to see the future, and Kim intended it to stay that way. If her mother knew even a portion of the true danger that awaited in London, she would certainly never let Kim out of cozy North Carolina again.

By dinner that evening Fred and George had her mother and sister laughing so much Kim knew they were a success, regardless of their mischievousness. Night came too soon, and before long it was time for the twins to return to London.

“Well, now that you know the door code, you can visit me at any time,” Kim reasoned to both of them as she walked them to the door.

“Just, uh… knock first, would you? After the knock code, I mean,” Mrs. Shimmer’s said with a faint grimace. Kim supposed something about having a portal to another country in the middle of her hallway made her slightly uncomfortable, which Kim supposed was understandable.

“Of course,” said Fred. “We can always write before we visit, though seems a bit cruel to the post owl.” Kim’s mother said something in return, but Kim wasn’t listening anymore. She was looking at George who was eyeing her meaningfully.

“Be safe Kim,” he said in a low voice.

“W-wha-… well, yeah, of course…” She didn’t quite understand where this was coming from.

“I mean, with whatever trip you’re taking with Dumbledore,” he explained. Kim had told the both of them about her vision and her vow to help Harry in whatever way she was capable.

“Oh, right…”

“Just be safe. You’ll be with him so…” he said, as if reminding himself. He put his arms around Kim, pulling her tight against his chest as Fred said his last goodbyes to Mrs. Shimmers and turned to join them.

“You will visit, won’t you?” Kim asked, looking from George as he released her to Fred.

“Of course,” Fred said, hugging her next and kissing the top of her head. “Couldn’t stay away for that long. Besides, I like it here. Has an _exotic_ feel to it.”

Kim snorted. Her home was about as exotic as a muggle sitcom. She kissed Fred on the lips and bid them both one last farewell. With the door shut firmly behind them, the silence that rang through the house was loud and lonely feeling. She thought longingly of the day when she could just be with the twins full time and never have to leave.

“Well, they were nice,” her mother said, hands on her hips as she looked down at Kim from farther up the hallway. Kim pulled her gaze from the door.

“Yeah, they are.”

“So wait, which one was your boyfriend?” she asked, frowning in thought. Kim smiled and shook her head. “It was kind of hard to tell… how long have you known these boys?”

“It was hard to tell?” Kim said, voice a little high, almost defensive though she wasn’t quite sure why.

“Well yeah… It’s not a bad thing, I just meant that it seemed… I don’ know, like you’re close with both of them.”

“Well, we _have_ been friends since I started going to Hogwarts… four years ago?” she counted in her head. “Three years. Yeah.”

“Well, it shows… I get the impression that they’re very protective of you,” she said with a knowing look as they went to sit in the kitchen.

“Really?” Kim asked, voice high again. A bashful smile crept up on her face despite herself.

“Yeah. It’s good to think that you’ve had someone looking out for you all this time while you’re away from home,” she said.

Kim let out a breath of air in a sort of laugh. She supposed it was true that Fred and George _did_ look out for her, but if only her mother knew how much more trouble they’d gotten her in by comparison. She sometimes wondered what her life would be like if she had never met them, how much less detention she would’ve had. The idea was unbearably dull.


	2. The Ring, the Sword, and the Snake

Chapter 2

The Ring, the Sword, and the Snake

Fred did visit Kim a few times over the course of the next week and a half, occasionally bringing his brother along with him. She and her mother would watch the twins play one-on-one quidditch games in her back yard, much to her mother’s delight. The twins seemed to enjoy it too, since they didn’t have a yard anymore now that they lived in the city.

One Saturday morning Aunt Brit decided to visit, saying it’d been too long since she’d seen her favorite niece.

“So Kim, how’s Hogwarts? And London?” she asked as she and Kim’s mother sat around the kitchen table, a kettle brewing on the stove.

“Both are good.”

“I heard about what happened last year…”

Kim got a bit stiff as her mother’s attention perked up.

“What happened?” Mrs. Shimmers asked.

“It was just a scandal with one of the teachers,” Kim answered quickly.

“More than just a little _scandal_ ,” Aunt Brit said, standing to poor herself a cup of tea from the pipping kettle. “The woman was terrorizing the students all because the Ministry was so cock-sure He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hadn’t returned.”

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?” her mother asked.

Brit looked over her shoulder at her, a bit surprised, and then turned a skeptical gaze on Kim. “You really haven’t told her a thing, have you?”

Kim stammered for far too long.

“What haven’t you told me, Kim?” Mrs. Shimmers pressed sternly.

“Well-” Kim continued to stammer. “I-it’s got to do with the magical community in the UK… I don’t know, I guess I didn’t think you’d be interested—”

“Didn’t think she’d be interested?” Brit said incredulously.

Kim grimaced at her resentfully. “Fine. I didn’t want you to worry, Mom. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well, you certainly won’t be handling it,” Brit said, as if the idea were a relief. “The ministry and the aurors’ll have to take care of it, and I’m sure they will. Luckily you’ve got no part in it.”

Kim just stared between her mother and her Aunt. _If only you knew how wrong you are._ But she was immediately glad that they didn’t know.

Just then there was a wrap on the door. Mrs. Shimmers stood, looking vaguely surprised they had more visitors.

“Who’s that?” Brit asked as she leaned to try and see through the kitchen doorway to the window of the side door to the house.

“Probably someone lost,” Mrs. Shimmers said, disappearing onto the porch to answer the door.

“You really should keep your mom a bit more informed,” Aunt Brit said. “I understand not wanting to explain everything. It’s a lot to try and explain to a muggle. But she should at least know the basics.”

“Yeah, I guess… I just don’t have a lot of time to talk to her, and it never really seems to come up. But I’ll tell her more from now on, I will,” she added hastily in response to the raised-brow look she was getting from her aunt.

“Uh, you’ve got company, Kim,” her mother said as she reentered the kitchen. Kim looked up to see she was followed by a tall, very old wizard with long grey-purple robes that whisked along the floor. He had a long silvery beard and wore half-moon spectacles.

“You’re not- _the Dumbledore_ ,” Aunt Brit said in a bit of a gasp, standing to shake his hand.

“You know each other?” Mrs. Shimmers asked, not understanding.

“Oh, no,” Brit laughed with a little embarrassment.

“He’s kind of famous,” Kim explained to her mother.

“Well, what next for today?” Mrs. Shimmers chuckled as she sat in her seat. “First I find out about secret scandals I should already know, and now there are famous wizards showing up at my door.”

“ _Mom,_ ” Kim groaned under her breath as she approached Dumbledore who was smiling as if cheerfully amused by all this. “ _This is the Headmaster.”_

“Oh. Well, nice to meet you. You work at Kim’s school?” she said, painfully at ease with him. Kim supposed her mother was a bit unaware of that cultural element in the wizarding community; headmasters were _not_ like principals.

“I do,” Dumbledore said with a good-natured nod. “I’m sorry to drop in so unexpectedly, Kim, Mrs. Shimmers, and you are…”

“Brit Habernath. I’m Kim’s aunt,” she said.

“Pleased to meet you. As I was saying, my apologies for showing up so suddenly. Had Kim told you already she was expecting me to come by?”

Kim got a guilty expression.

“No,” Mrs. Shimmers said, a warning in her tone directed at Kim. “Seems there’s a lot she hasn’t been telling me.”

“Ah. Well… Kim, it’s probably wise that _you_ explain the situation. It’s not at all my place to do so,” he said with a knowing smile. It was like he was aware that Kim had been keeping secrets from her mother and was silently chastising her for it with nothing but a look.

Kim let out a long sigh. “It’s going to take a bit to explain. You might want to have a seat,” Kim said, gesturing to the table for Dumbledore.

“I shall, thank you.”

“Can we get you anything?” Brit fretted. Kim had never seen her like this, thought she supposed it wasn’t that odd. Dumbledore had become something of a celebrity, especially since he’d turned out to be right about Voldemort all along despite everyone believing the contrary.

“Well, if there’s tea…” Dumbledore said, holding up a finger. Brit nodded vigorously and waved her wand, muttering spells as the cupboard opened on its own accord and a cup flew into her hand.

“Where to start,” Kim sighed. “So… Hitler.”

Mrs. Shimmers made a face of vague surprise and amusement, and Dumbledore didn’t change his expression at all. She wondered if he had any idea who she was talking about.

“He exists in the wizarding community, and his name is Voldemort. If you’ve ever read any of the _Daily Prophet_ I’ve brought home with me, he would’ve been referred to as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who. They won’t say his name over there. That’s because back when he rose for the first time, he made things… well, he was a really evil man, and a really powerful wizard. He still _is_ …”

“So he’s not gone, then,” Mrs. Shimmers said, churning over the information.

“Everyone thought he was for years, but no… he’s back.”

“Back from hiding?”

“Back from the dead.”

Mrs. Shimmers looked mostly disbelieving.

“I wasn’t really stressing enough the kind of power we’re talking about,” Kim reiterated gravely. “It’s impossible to explain... But imagine a man who can resurrect himself from essentially a ghost-like state, and I think you’ll get the idea. He could face an army of muggles and kill them all effortlessly. And if he’s not stopped, it would probably come to that, too…”

Mrs. Shimmers was looking very serious now, seeming to finally understand the severity of the situation.

“So he’s back…and… well… I’m involved.” It was lame, but it was the only way she could think to explain it. Her mother just looked at her blankly, but Aunt Brit who was extracting a tea bag from the cup of hot water looked alarmedly at Kim.

“Involved?” her mother asked with genuine confusion.

“I can’t tell you how or why… the explanation would take all day, and even then I’m not sure if you’d understand it. Not sure _I_ do. But I got involved in the fight against Voldemort. It couldn’t be helped, I didn’t go _looking_ for it, it came to me. I just have to deal with it.”

“Kim…” her mother began, struggling to grasp all this. “You’re only _16_. You shouldn’t be involved in anything except school a-and hanging out with your friends! That should be all you’re focused on—”

“Well that’s a luxury I don’t have, Mom. I can’t just close my eyes and pretend the wizarding world isn’t in trouble. Like I said, it’s a long story, but that ship has long since sailed. I’m involved, end of story.”

“End of story? Excuse me? I’m not going to allow you to get involved in- in some kind of wizarding _war_ —”

“I don’t care, if you don’t like it,” Kim said abruptly. She didn’t have time for this. Dumbledore was here for her because she had a job, a mission. She was to help Dumbledore find one of the Hallows. She wasn’t going to allow her mother to dissuade him from keeping her involved.

In response to what she’d said her mother’s lips got tight and quivering like they always did when she was about to get very angry. Kim kept a steady head and a calm voice though. “It’s not your choice, it’s mine. I’ve done things, Mom. Beyond what you could even imagine, just this last semester I broke into a highly guarded government facility with my friends and fought off a pack of Death Eaters. Those are his followers, Mom, those are wizards evil enough that they would kill you or _Danni,_ or me without a second thought. They tried to, actually. I almost died. I know this is a lot to just dump on you, and I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner, but I didn’t want you to worry.”

All was quiet for a long time as her mother stared off at nothing. Aunt Brit set the cup of tea awkwardly before Dumbledore and lowered herself unsteadily into another of the kitchen chairs.

“Thank you, Mrs. Habernath,” Dumbledore said lightly, as if there wasn’t an explosive argument going on just before him.

Aunt Brit was so absorbed in staring at Kim with awe that she didn’t even say you’re welcome _._ She took a long sip of her tea, silence dragging on before she spoke slowly. “I can’t believe… you’ve gotten involved in all this… at so _young._ ”

Kim shrugged. She didn’t feel young. She didn’t feel _too young_ or like the things that were happening to her were unjustly placed on her.

“You don’t get to choose when things happen to you,” Kim said, shaking her head. “You just have to deal with the things that’re thrown at you in the best way you can.” Maybe she’d learned that lesson before most, when her sister had died. Regardless of _why_ she was capable of dealing with such things, Kim knew that she was and that was all that mattered.

“So you’re just going to go off and do whatever you like, regardless of what I think,” Mrs. Shimmers said. Kim sighed, knowing that once she reached this level of angry there was no turning back.

“If I may, Mrs. Shimmers,” said Dumbledore, “your daughter is wise beyond her years. I would not involve her in such things if I didn’t believe that she was fully capable of dealing with the—”

“You don’t get to decide what things are all right for my daughter, and what aren’t,” she snapped vehemently. Kim winced, gritting her teeth as Dumbledore looked briefly taken aback.

“Right you are,” he said quietly, taking a long sip of his tea. Kim could tell he was coming to the same conclusion she already had; there was no reasoning with her. Now, however, it was Kim who was angry.

“You don’t get to decide what’s right for me either,” she snapped, causing her mother to make a snorting sound of disgust and sarcastic amusement, as if what Kim said was a joke. “It’s my life. It’s my choice. I’m going to spend it doing something meaningful, something I know is im—”

“This isn’t about you doing the right thing, it’s about keeping yourself safe! Think about Danni, hu? How do you think she would feel if something happened to you!”

Kim’s gusto shrank away at the thought; Danni, her little sister, the last one left alive…

“Now, that’s not really fair, Jane,” Brit said, but Mrs. Shimmers held up an angry hand at her to stop her.

“Ah!” she snapped.  “No, you don’t get involved in this.”

Kim steeled herself, scowling as she realized what her mother was doing. “You’re not going to guilt me out of leaving. Everyone dies, if I have to go, I’d rather it be for a cause that matters.”

“You’re not going to put yourself in danger—”

“Not _recklessly_ , no!”

“Not at all!”

Kim grimaced. She couldn’t see a way out of this. She looked to Dumbledore and said, “I think we should leave now,” as she stood.

“Ah, are you ready?” Dumbledore said, standing hastily as well.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mrs. Shimmers demanded.

“Yes, let’s go now,” Kim muttered to him, and he didn’t hesitate to start for the door. Kim followed him, pausing only to look her mother in her shaking, rage filled eyes. “Like I said. It’s my life. It’s my choice.”

With that she followed Dumbledore from the kitchen and out the side door.

“If you walk out of this house, don’t expect to be welcome back!” her mother bellowed after her.

“Thank you for the tea,” Dumbledore said, ignoring her irate rage. But Kim wasn’t quite able to be so serene.

“Fine!” she hollered back at the top of her lungs spinning in the gravel driveway to scream at the doorway she’d just exited. She hoped the whole neighborhood could hear her. “I’ll get my things, and then I’ll be out of your hair!” She looked to Dumbledore. “How are we traveling?” she asked aggressively.

“Take my arm. Hold on tight,” he said as Kim’s mother could be heard screaming in the background. And then it was all sucked away, Kim tugged into a worm hole of existence by her belly button and squeezed through a tiny non-space.

The time had been just before noon, but now it was hard to tell. The sky was a murky grey, and there was a dense mist still hovering over the tips of the grass. Kim blinked at her surroundings, releasing her iron grip on Dumbledore’s forearm. They stood beside a dusky dirt road. The air was dense with wood, and the forest that surrounded them was thick and dilapidated. Kim could feel by the way the trees breathed that it was a very old forest indeed.

“We’re here,” she realized. It felt immediately familiar, though she hadn’t stood in this exact spot, the trees and the air all felt charged with the same energy.

“It’s this way,” Dumbledore said, pointing toward the forest. As they approached, however, Kim came to realize that there was a small overgrown path, barely visible from the main road.

“I’m sorry about my Mom,” Kim said after a few minutes of silence.

“Don’t apologize. She merely cares about you. That’s better than can be said for some.”

“She cares _too much._ There’s a difference between caring about someone and trying to control them.”

“Well… certainly shows were you get your stubbornness from,” he remarked with a sly smile.

Kim scowled. “I am _not_ stubborn like her.” _I can at least see reason… she decides she’s right about something she knows nothing about and that’s it, they’ll be no convincing her._

Dumbledore chuckled as he led Kim through the forest. “She _is_ right, however. You _are_ young.”

“You asked me to be here.”

“…Yes… Sometimes I wonder if that was irresponsible of me.”

“What choice do you have? I know where the ring is, and… why do you want to find it? I assumed it was important, but I never asked why. Was I right about it being one of the Deathly Hallows?”

“Quite possibly,” Dumbledore said, sounding tired. “And possibly it is also something else. We shall see when we arrive.”

Kim didn’t press the matter any farther because up ahead she could see a very small building, run down with shackles missing and a knocked over trashcan in the front lawn. They approached the small shack and slowed, Dumbledore eyeing the entrance warily. Kim followed his gaze. The look of the grimy window and the grey forest gave her the feel of returning.

“I think this is it,” Kim breathed.

“If so, I don’t imagine we’ll be able to walk through the front door,” Dumbledore said, stepping closer to the door and reaching slowly out to it as if he could feel the magic along its surface. “And yet…” he flicked his wand. “It seems to be clear of any hexes.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means… we are either very lucky,” he said, turning to Kim slowly and blinking. “Or we are in the wrong place.” He drew in a long breath and looked at the bent doorknob and the chipped paint. “Before we proceed…” He reached into his robes and drew out a cloth bag. It seemed to be mostly empty, but when he drew out his hand from within it, there was the hilt of a sword clasped in his fingers. He continued to draw the sword up and up until a few feet of blade was fully unsheathed from the small bag. Kim’s eyes followed the line of it, landing on the swirling silver hilt with glittering rubies.

“A sword?”

“Not just any sword,” he explained. “The sword of Godric Gryffindor. I’m not certain of what we will encounter within, but this sword is imbibed with basilisk venom.”

“Oh,” Kim said, sounding impressed and surprised. Basilisks were not common beasts, and their venom was even less likely to come by due to the danger of retrieving it.

“So… there are few things in this world that it cannot destroy. Here, I’ll ask you to hold it, if you would.” He held out the hilt to her. She took it gingerly, testing the weight in her hands. It was heavier than it looked, though it wasn’t too large for her.

“Ready?” she asked, a bit nervously. She wondered what sort of thing Dumbledore was expecting within that made the sword necessary. The idea made blood run fast through her veins. With Dumbledore by her side she was not afraid. She was excited.

“Let us forward, then,” Dumbledore said, and he wrapped his hand around the door knob. The handle twisted and he pulled the door. It squealed as it swung, hanging slightly off kilter in the frame, but nothing unordinary followed.

“So far so good,” Kim breathed in the silence.

“I’m hesitant to believe we’re lucky,” Dumbledore said wearily as he stepped through the doorway. Kim followed with the sword raised by her side. The cabin was very small and dilapidated. The window across the way was cracked and the wooden mullion was crooked. There were leaves scattered across the floor and holes in the wooden floorboards that Kim could only imagine made good entrances for critters of all kinds.

“We must be…” Kim breathed, lowering the sword. She turned to lean it against the wall, and as she did she faced the front window that was to her left. The déjà vu that rushed over her moved her to silence. She stepped forward, gazing out the window to the forest beyond. _This is it,_ she thought. _This moment… I’ve lived this moment before._ She turned to face the table beside the window that was scattered with clutter and coated in dust. In a sweeping motion her eyes slowly landed on the green leather book on the top of the stack. The snake eating the heart glared at her, and the title, _The Primacy of Blood,_ gleamed silver.

She reached slowly forward and took the book in hand. _It’s in here._ She opened to the page that flipped easiest against her fingers, easily finding the section with a cut out square. Tucked within the cut out was a plain golden ring with a diamond shaped, onyx stone. Within the stone she could see the faint carving. The triangle, the circle, the line dividing it in half.

“That’s…” Dumbledore said, eyeing the ring with a fixed gaze. Kim glanced up at him, his eyebrow twitching and his lips left slightly agape. It was awe. It was something more maddening than awe, it was _desire_ of the most treacherous kind that Kim saw glinting in his light grey eyes. She watched as he slowly outstretched his hand, his finger’s trembling slightly, gliding toward the ring.

Then a feeling of rushing terror slid into her stomach. Her body tensed as she stared at the ring. _Run, run, run!_ But she held fast. Her stomach twisted as Dumbledore’s fingers hovered closer, and inch, less…

_Don’t touch it!_ she suddenly thought, but before she could get out the words his thumb and first finger had enclosed around the ring. He let out a shocking cry, loud and withered, desperate in a way she’d never heard his old wizened voice before. It jolted her, making the book fall from her hands, eyes darting around wildly to assess what was happening.

He cried again, crumbling in on himself where his hand still clutched the ring.

“Oh my god!” Kim gasped, mind racing. _Do something do something do_ something!

He collapsed to his knees, the muscles in his hands taught and clasping on the ring, black tendrils licking out from his fingertips.

“Drop it! Drop the ring!” Kim cried, shaking as she looked about frantically for something to do. The black ink continued to creep up Dumbledore’s hand.

“C-can’t!” he barely managed to cry, crumbling to the floor. Seeing her headmaster trembling in pain, crying out agonizingly such that Kim had never heard froze her. She told her legs they had to move, had to do _something,_ but she was stuck, insides trembling, eyes bulging, and mind raising. He started to choke like he was trying to say something but the pain was too strong to speak through. His arm outstretched across the floor, extending his black fingers still clutching the ring. The black was almost past his wrist and still creeping like a plague was rotting his flesh.

Suddenly Kim was in motion, grabbing for the sword that was propped up against the wall. She raised it over her head and poised herself over Dumbledore’s writhing hand.

“Hold still! Try to hold still!” she screamed over the sounds of his shouts. He clamped his mouth tight and though jolts kept racking his body, his arm remained in one place against the floor. _I have to smash it. I have to smash it. I’m going to cut off his fingers. But if I don’t do something he’s- he’s going to die!_

She drove the sword into the floor as hard as she could. The tip skewered threw the center of the ring and pinned it to the wooden floorboard. There was a sudden feeling as if a gust of hot air had swept up her arms. She shuddered, her fingers wobbling against the hilt of the sword as her heart spluttered in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut and the darkness swirled on the back of her lids as if it were alive. As if her insides had been turned to shadow. And then it was gone, lifted like the sun moving out from behind a cloud. For a moment there was no movement, no sound. It was as if the world had stopped breathing, not a particle of air moving.

“Thank you,” Dumbledore sighed, relaxing onto his back, his hand free from the ring. His body slumped and he took a shaking breath, cradling his black hand against his chest. He was so old, and though he was the best wizard Kim knew, his body still seemed frail how it was now, trembling against the floor.

“Okay. We need to get out of here,” Kim breathed leaning the sword up against the wall again. As she moved, something caught her eye, sending a thrill up her core. _What was that… Did I see something move?_ Her eyes roved over the floor around where Dumbledore lie and into the corners of the room that had shadows clinging to them. _Perhaps it was nothing…_

Her gaze slid down to the book that had contained the ring, now shut face up on the floor where she’d dropped it. Something about the face of the book made Kim’s glance drag into a wide eyed stare, heart pumping faster in her chest. The cover was wrong. The silver text and the illustration of the heart were all there, but the snake… The snake was gone.

“We need to get out of here, Dumbledore,” Kim repeated, voice trembling now as her heart thudded against her lungs. She was truly beginning to sense how vulnerable they were with Dumbledore crippled as he was. She hurried to the door, thinking she would open it and then shoulder the Professor through it. Her clammy palm encased the chilled metal of the knob and twisted, but it did not budge. She twisted again, frantic this time, and yanked against the handle, but it was stuck to the spot with unnatural strength for a door of such a decrepit nature.

She pulled out her wand hastily, her hands seeming to have become all thumbs. “Alohomora,” she breathed at the lock. She felt the spell slipping from her wand tip, but when she clasped the handle still the door would not budge.

“Come on!” she cried as she threw her weight against it, but she knew that would do no good. She turned to Dumbledore who was trying to sit up.

“Okay, Dumbledore,” Kim said, out of breath from the pace of her heart. She leaned down to him and helped him to lean against the wall beside the door, wand still in hand. She had seen nothing, but she could feel the cabin changing. It was getting darker, the air heavier, _thicker_ with something that made her stomach turn.

“You have to apparate us out of here,” Kim breathed, clutching Dumbledore’s arms. He groaned, hands shaking as he reached down in his robes for his wand. Then there was a soft hiss. It was faint and it was coming from just behind Kim. Her heart shuddered to a stop, her whole body seeming to freeze. She turned her head slowly away from Dumbledore, eyes creeping across the floor until she was looking directly behind her at the source of the small noise.

A snake, not quite there, but not quite effervescent either. It seemed to be made of living shadow, black and flickering in the dim light that made it through the window. Kim’s heart sunk, deeper and deeper in her body until it resided in her stomach and she felt as though she could do nothing. It was as if her body had been turned to lead and her spirit had been sucked from her body. She fell back off her feet where she’d been crouched, feeling as though she was sinking lower. Sinking deep into the earth and out of existence. Part of her knew she needed to act. Needed to do _something,_ needed to run, hide! But the idea of trying to do anything at all felt impossible. _What’s the point? We’re all dead anyway. How could we ever hope to flicker on against a darkness so complete, against an evil so prevailing?_

The snake wove closer, Kim’s body sinking deeper as it drew near, steeping in the sapping hopelessness. It wrapped its coiling body around her leg and her eyes lulled low. _We have to get out… but I can’t… I should just… give… up…_

_…_

_…_

_…_

_But then Fred would have to wonder what happened to my body, and George would never forgive himself for not protecting me, and Harry would be left to face Voldemort alone. I can’t let that happen._

Kim’s eyes slid open to face the sight of the black ink snake tightening its grip up her thigh. Her breath coming in heaving drags, she lifted her wand, fighting against the exhausting darkness.

“Expe-… Expecto… Patronum,” she said, her voice only coming out in a breathy whisper. “Expecto Patronum,” she tried again with more gusto. The lightest of mists fogged from the tip of her wand, but it had a profound effect on the snake. It recoiled as if attacked, hissing violently.

“Expecto Patronum!” she said with more fervor. _You need to think of a happy thought_ , she told herself, and slowly she was starting to remember she _had_ happy thoughts, happy memory, happy things to look forward to in life. She had those she just needed to _remember_!

_“Expecto Patronum!”_ she bellowed, Fred and George laughing on either side of her, Fred kissing her cheek, George nudging her shoulder, Harry, Ron, and Hermione talking excitedly across from her, the Weasley family inviting her in with open arms, belonging, _love._

A ray of white light burst from the end of her wand, and from the glowing folds unfurled feathery wings. Her patronus, the screech owl, tumbled from the glow and darted at the snake which uncoiled from Kim’s leg, writhing in agony. It felt as though a vice grip had released not only from her leg, but from her mind.

“Dumbledore,” Kim said, turning and shaking him. He too seemed to be waking from a deadened slumber. She looked over her shoulder at the ring, near the snake that was preoccupied with the owl. She darted forward, stretching out and grabbing the ring. She could feel the difference in it between her finger tips. She stuffed it in her pocket. Whatever evil had been contained there was released now. She reached up and grasped the sword of Gryffindor before she sat back beside Dumbledore and clasped his shoulder.

“You’ve got to aparate us out of here! We have to go now!” She didn’t know how long her patronus would be able to fight of the snake. It was rearing back now, bearing it’s fangs as her owl clawed at its shadowy skin with its talons.

“Hold my arm,” Dumbledore said, and Kim did so hastily, gripping tight. A second passed where the sound of the hissing snack filled the air before Kim felt the unpleasant sensation that her stomach was being peeled from inside her body and launched across the universe. Within one blink she was landing on her back in a large office with Dumbledore by her side, her wand and the sword still clutched between her slick fingers. They just sat there for a moment, heaving labored breaths.

“Did you get the ring?” Dumbledore heaved, moving onto his hands and knees to stand up.

“Yes.” Kim stood too and reached into her pocket. “It’s here.”

“Good…” he worked to steady his breathing. “I’m sorry, Kim.”

“… What happened?”

“I’m still uncertain,” he said, looking at his hand. It was blackened as if scorched, the skin drawn thin and skeletal. “However, I feel the damage that’s been done will not be undone. A matter for another time… as it is, we got what we went for, thanks to you,” he said with a small smile and a twinkling look, though she could tell there was still a drain on his usual presence.

“What _did_ we get… It felt… evil. Not just cursed for protection, but…”

“I know. I can’t yet be certain,” he said looking at the ring as he sat behind his desk. “Whatever it was, we destroyed it. But you’re correct in your fear. This was a dark magic. Not the sort of curse you might find in an _ordinary_ wizards spell book.”

“But… is it really one of the Deathly Hallows?”

“It seems very likely that this is, in fact, the resurrection stone. There are a few things I must check to be certain… If we are correct, then _this_ stone can bring echoes of the dead back to the realm of the living. However,” he said, sounding very tired now, “it is _very_ dangerous. Not to be toyed with.”

“So, what exactly can the Deathly Hallows _do_?”

There was a pause as Kim lowered herself into a chair, her legs still wobbling from the excitement of before.

“Tell me what you already know,” Dumbledore said.

“I know the story. In the story the wand is the most powerful magical tool, the resurrection stone brings back the dead. But neither of them bring happiness. The elder wand brings strife and the stone brings misery. But the last one, the cloak, protects the wearer from death until old age, when he passes it along to his children.”

“Yes, that is how the story goes. But as you’ve seen… the Hallows are real. The warnings told of them in the story are also real. But there is one thing left out. The true power of the Hallows is not in their individual form… but when they are gathered together.”

“…What happens then?”

“No one knows, for certain. As the legend goes, when all the Hallows are gathered, the gatherer awakens the power of Death itself.”

“Death itself,” Kim breathes.

“An unknowable power,” he said, nodding slowly.

“And why are we looking for this power? Other than the obvious reasons…”

“Such power should not be left for any to stumble upon,” Dumbledore explained, but Kim’s eyes narrowed minutely. _There’s something he’s not telling me._ He smiled tightly. “I don’t yet know, but there may be another use for this. You’re seeing more than most how little I _do_ know. Most of my pupils think I have knowledge over every aspect of the magical world. I can’t imagine what a disappointment it must be to discover I am merely a mortal member of this earth, just as you.”

Kim laughed. “Well… will I be told what’s going on, when you know? Or will I be kept in the dark for my own safety?” There was a slight edge to what she said.

Again Dumbledore’s smile grew bitter and then faded. “You chose this path, did you not?”

“I did.”

“In that case, I suspect I may need you again, somewhere along the way. Without you I never would have found what may be the resurrection stone, and as it turns out, I most likely would not have made it out of there alive.”

Kim smiled bashfully. “Am I going to get into trouble for using magic outside of school?”

“If they come asking, I’ll tell them the magic was done by me. They’re sensors can’t discern whom is performing the magic, only that there is magic being performed around under aged wizards.”

“Oh… really? That doesn’t seem very effective.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “It’s more of an honor system then they’d like to admit.”

“Hm. Well, all right then. Is there anything else?”

“No,” he said with a smile. “You’ve done quite more than enough. Well, actually… it may be wise to… keep this discovery a secret.”

“You mean from Harry.”

“… Yes. I dislike hiding anymore from him, and yet, until I fully understand what we’re dealing with…”

“I won’t mention it. He’s got enough on his mind as it is, with Sirius… Though I hate to think what he’ll think when he finds out I’ve kept something like this from him…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll insure that he _is_ involved as it’s fitting for him to be. But you shouldn’t feel guilty for avoiding worrying him unnecessarily. This hallow may prove to have nothing to do with him. We shall simply have to see.”

“All right. Well, if that’s all…” Kim sighed, standing. She was already thinking about where she was going to go. What felt like a long time ago, her mother had kicked her out of the house.

“Where are you going to go, Kim?”

“… I’ll go to Fred and George’s shop,” she said with a shrug. “They’ll let me stay.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Very well. If you ever find you need a place… the castle’s doors are always open to students seeking shelter.”

“I know,” Kim said with a strained smile. She didn’t want to ever be a ‘student seeking shelter’. She didn’t like the idea of being needy, helpless, reliant on others. She supposed that’s what she was doing with Fred and George. She’d just have to work in the shop to make up for her keep. _Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. Everything’s going to be alright… I’m going to be fine._

Dumbledore apparated her to her mother’s driveway so she could get her things. She thanked him and he wished her luck as she started for the side door. After facing what she’d just done, this would be nothing. Or so she told herself.


	3. Return to Hogwarts

Chapter 3

Return to Hogwarts

Kim didn’t say a word to her mother, merely gathered her things and left through the bellhop door. She stepped through into Aunt Brit’s house to find that she was there, reading a book in an armchair. Kim made a sound of surprise at seeing her.

“S-sorry. I was just-” she stammered.

“It’s alright,” she said, closing her book and leaning forward to face Kim more properly. “Are you… I mean do you have a place to go?”

“Yeah,” Kim sighed, setting down her trunk. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.”

“Well… you know, I don’t usually try to interfere, your mother is your mother… but I’ve got to say she’s over reacting. I understand her wanting to keep you safe. And you probably should’ve eased her into it all a bit smoother, you know, you could’ve told her nicer. But, I can’t understand her kicking you out. I mean, if she wants to keep you safe, why on earth would she-… well, anyway, I just wanted you to know that my door is always open. I don’t know where you’re going, but if you need a place to stay at any point, feel free to come to my door. Whether I’m here or not.”

Kim cleared her throat awkwardly and looked at her shoes. For some reason her eyes felt hot. Maybe because of this kindness. Maybe because it was a kindness more than what her own mother could show.

“Thanks,” she said, a bit thickly. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. I’m gonna stay with Fred and George for a while. I know they won’t mind me staying.”

“Alright. Well take care of yourself, Kim. And don’t be a stranger. I’m sure your mother will come around soon.”

“Yeah. We’ll see. Anyway, I’ll see you later.”

Kim left through the front door and made her way to the community center where she could take floo powder to the leaky cauldron. From there she walked to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. She entered the shop, magical horn honking to announce her entry. She dragged her suitcases over the stoop with some difficulty and made for the stairs that would lead her to the second floor.

“Um,” said Verity from behind the counter. “Should I go get Mr. Weasley?”

“What?” Kim panted from the effort of dragging her things. _Why would I need her to get Fred’s Dad?_ “Why?”

“I don’t know… because you’re going up to their house…”

“Oh, you mean Fred and George.” Suddenly she felt both very old and very young at the same time, as though the gap between her and Fred’s age was suddenly wider. “It’s fine, I’ll just see myself in.”

“Okay…” Verity said in a slightly high voice.

Kim banged on their door before twisting the handle and bumping it with her rear as she dragged her bags behind her.

“Uh, h-hello-” came a voice from within as one of the twins approached the door. “Oh, Kim,” he said, much lighter now. “What are you doing here so soon?”

“Kim?” came the other. “Why do you have all your things…”

“Well, you know how you wanted me to stay longer,” Kim said, turning to face George who stood holding open the door and Fred who was standing from the couch. “Wish granted.”

And just like that Kim was living with Fred and George for the summer.

And what a glorious summer it was. Kim spent her days playing wizard board games with George, which were vastly more entertaining than muggle board games, exploring Diagon Alley, and reading books she hadn’t had time for during the school year. Sleeping beside Fred every night didn’t hurt the experience either. The shop was always bursting with noise and customers, as it had this particular day as well. Fred was busy from open until close, and even once the doors were locked and Verity gone home, he was _still_ busy.

“Can’t you just leave it?” Kim begged, putting her arms around his waist from behind and resting her head against his spine. It rolled along his skin as his arms worked, vigorously stirring a small cauldron in the break room sink.

“If I stop, the ingredients will waste.”

“If you don’t stop, _I’m_ going to waste.” She released him, slumping and wallowing in boredom. He glanced over his shoulder at her with a fond look in his eye.

“Just go join George for a bit.” He bobbed his head in the general direction of up stairs. “I’ll be on in a minute.”

“ _Fine._ But you owe me dinner, I had to eat whatever concoction was left in the back of the ice box.”

“You didn’t eat that did you?”

“Why?” Kim said, a trill of panic in her tone.

“Oh no…”

“… _Why?_ ”

“I can’t leave this, go tell George,” he said bobbing his head toward upstairs again as he stirred his cauldron with a grim expression on his face.

“ _Why?”_ she demanded in the highest pitch her vocals registered.

“Just go, quickly!”

Kim did not take his warning lightly. She ran up the stairs skipping every other step and burst through the door of the apartment.

“Holly—”

“Quick, what was wrong with the food in the ice box?” she demanded of George who had been reading in the arm chair.

“What?”

“The food in the ice box! I ate it for dinner!”

“…Mum’s stew?”

“Yes? What’s wrong with it?”

“…Well if you’ve got issue, I’d say take it up with her, but then again, I’d not recommend it. She’s rather sensitive about her cooking.” He said this last bit in a false whisper, as though it were a juicy bit of gossip.

Kim scoffed, rolling her eyes, realizing the simplest explanation for the situation. Fred was messing with her. “He’s such a dick,” she muttered, throwing herself down on the couch.

“I’m still here you know, might as well address me,” George said, though he was obviously enjoying himself thoroughly.

“Not you,” Kim sighed. “Fred told me there was something wrong with the stuff in the ice box and, given what you two do for a living I assumed it was going to, I don’t know, swap my arms with my legs or something.”

George lifted his chin in enlightenment. “That could be interesting…”

Fred walked through the door before he had the chance to finish his thought aloud.

“You’re a dick,” Kim said to him.

“Got you out of my hair, didn’t it?”

To this, Kim grabbed the corner of the pillow her head rest upon and chucked it at him. He laughed as it hit him in the side.

“Kidding,” he said, coming to the couch and kissing her forehead.

“Are you? We should be spending more time together, school starts in a _few weeks_.”

“I know.”

“I realized earlier today, we’ll miss our one-year anniversary,” she said, sitting up to face Fred as he sat on the cushion beside hers. He looked at her briefly but didn’t seem as disappointed as Kim had been when she realized this. She made a breathy sound as though someone had insulted her and left her mouth agape in disbelief.

“What?” he said.

“You don’t care?” she said in a high voice.

“About the anniversary?”

“You’re in trouble now,” George muttered at the same time, rising from his chair and retreating to his bedroom.

“It’s just another day, Kim,” Fred said gently, though it didn’t soften the blow of his words.

“Well, I mean, yeah… but… I don’t know. I just wish we could see each other… I’m gonna miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you, of course.” He put his hand on her shoulder opposite him and pulled her sideways into him. He kissed the top of her head. “We’ve got the rest of our lives though. One day’s not going to—”

“One _year_ ,” she corrected, because the end of the school year last year had seemed to last a life time, and she couldn’t imagine how the upcoming one would feel. She couldn’t help a smile, though, from the words _rest of our lives_ coming off his lips.

“One _year_ ,” he continued, “is not going to matter in the stretch of it.”

“Fine,” she said, looking up at him.

They kissed, which turned into more kissing, followed by horizontal kissing, followed by partial nudity, and then finally retreating to Fred’s bedroom in the awkward event that George decided to emerge from his own.

* * *

“Okay, do I have everything I need?” Kim asked as she lifted her things one by one as if counting them.

“I’m sure you do,” Fred said and clasped her cheeks in his hands. “If you forget something, we’ll send it.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He kissed her, the motion making Strix flap off Kim’s shoulder and seek refuge in her cage.

“You better go,” he said, rubbing her arm.

“You sure you don’t want us to take you?” George offered _again_.

“No, it’s fine,” Kim said dragging her things to the door. George scooped up her largest trunk for her as Fred grabbed the smaller bags, leaving Kim with just Strix’s cage. “It’d be silly for you two to ride in the cab with me just to come right back.”

“All right,” George conceded as they filed out the front door of the shop and set all their perspective luggage in the trunk of the cab. “Well… see you on holiday,” he said looking down and rubbing his arm bashfully. Kim smiled and outstretched her arms, embracing him tightly.

“I’ll see you on break,” Kim said as he patted her back a bit awkwardly. She released him and turned to Fred as he shut the trunk.

“I love you. You _better_ visit me at hogsmead, okay?” Kim said, embracing him.

“I will,” Fred said, sounding almost exasperated.

“Well, I’d hate to twist your arm,” she said sarcastically.

“What? You’re not! I love you,” he said in a high voice, kissing her on the forehead and opening the cab door for her.

“Okay. I’ll write soon!”

“Bye,” they both called at the same time and waved as Kim shut the cab door and told the cab driver to take her to the train station.

The trip was uneventful, as was most of the welcoming feast. Snape was now teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, which didn’t really faze Kim much. While she wasn’t a huge fan of Snape, she figured he’d be an improvement from Umbridge. Anyone would.

Before she knew it classes had begun. She had received her O.W.L. scores over the summer and signed up for N.E.W.T. classes accordingly. She was a little disappointed in her scores. She got poor in charms, which was a bit embarrassing, though it wasn’t exactly necessary for the types of jobs she was interested in. She got acceptable in Transfiguration and History of Magic, which meant she couldn’t take an N.E.W.T. class, but that was _fine_ by her, since she _hated_ History of Magic and didn’t exactly have a future in Transfiguration. She got an exceeds expectations in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, and Astronomy and signed up for the N.E.W.T. class for all of those subjects except Astronomy. She got outstanding in Herbology, Magical Creatures of Inelegance, Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination. She was taking the N.E.W.T. class for all except for Magical Creatures of Intelligences which didn’t have an N.E.W.T. class. That was alright, because with Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, and Divination she would have a full plate as it was.

The first week of classes passed as normally, though each class _did_ have extra homework. Defense Against the Dark Arts went better than expected with Snape as professor. The lesson was on nonverbal spells and Kim had the class with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Ha-Ha!” Kim cried triumphantly. “I got it!”

“Good work, Kim,” said Hermione, smiling. Typically, Hermione had managed to master the nonverbal protego after just a few attempts, but Kim had taken a bit longer. _Not too bad though,_ she thought, because from peering over at Ron whose face was turning purple with concentration, it seemed he hadn’t yet made any progress on nonverbal spells.

“Pathetic, Weasley,” said Snape, evidently irritated that Ron still hadn’t managed to jinx Harry. “Here, let me show you.” And suddenly he turned his wand on Harry in a flash. The burst of light came so fast that Harry shouted, “ _Protego!_ ” leaving all effort at nonverbal spells behind. Snape’s spell rebounded off of Harry’s shield so forcefully it sent Snape tumbling back a few steps to stagger against his desk. The following moments were shrilly silent. Snape righted himself and scowled at Harry vehemently.

“Do you remember me telling you we are practicing _nonverbal_ spells, Potter?”

“Yes,” said Harry stiffly.

“Yes, _sir_.” Snape corrected. _Oh God, not this again…_

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir’, Professor.”

She didn’t mean to, but it had caught her by such surprise that a snort of laughter escaped from her lips. She covered her mouth and tried to make like it was a caught, but she was smiling too impishly to be convincing.

“Detention, Saturday night, my office,” said Snape. “And since you find it so _funny,_ Shimmers, you can join him.” Kim’s smile vanished and a huff of air hissed out her lips. She stared at Harry exasperatedly. He screwed up his lips and shrugged.

“I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter… not even ‘ _the Chosen One_ ’ and his friends.”

As Snape stomped off Ron and Kim approached Harry.

“That was brilliant, Harry!” chortled Ron under his breath. Class was almost over by now so most were packing up their things, creating a decent clatter to disguise their voices from Snape.

“ _The Chosen one_ ,” Kim said in stupid voice, “getting me in trouble again. Way to go Harry.” She wasn’t really angry though, which was evident by her sideways smile and the nudge she gave him in the arm.

“You really shouldn’t have said it,” said Hermione, frowning at Ron’s evident enjoyment. “What made you?”

“He tried to jinx me, in case you didn’t notice!” fumed Harry. “I had enough of that during those occlumency lessons! Why doesn’t he use another guinea pig for a change? What’s Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defense? Did you hear him talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that _unfixed, indestructible_ stuff—”

“Well,” said Hermione, “I thought he sounded a bit like you.”

“Like _me_?”

Kim had heard the speech too and personally hadn’t found much wrong with it. Snape had a healthy respect for the Dark Arts. So did she. The Dark Arts were something to fear, something to understand but never practice. But then again, was it really the magic in of itself that made it dark, or the wizard? If a good wizard did dark magic, but did it because they had to, did it because they had no other choice…

“Kim, are you listening?” Hermione asked incredulously.

“Hu?” Kim said, snapping out of her thoughts. Hermione gave a withering look.

“Sorry,” Kim laughed, but before Hermione could fill her in, some Gryffindor in a younger year came rushing up to Harry spitting something about Quidditch. The group was then broken apart by different duties they had to attend.

By the end of the week, Kim had some free time to fret about other things than school. From seeing him in the Great Hall at dinners, Kim knew that Dumbledore’s hand was still blackened and dead. She hadn’t been given any information on what the ring was for certain. She decided to take matter into her own hands and start searching for an answer herself. She began her search in the restricted section, which was now available to her since she was at N.E.W.T. level. She spent all afternoon on Friday pouring over books about the deathly hallows and the resurrection stone, but not once did she come across a thing mentioning the reaction that Dumbledore had, or why it would have such a terrible energy around it. _And why would Gryffindor’s sword get rid of that energy if it was simply a normal part of the resurrection stone? Dumbledore seemed to think it was something_ else _as well, but what?_ As of yet, she didn’t have an answer.

That weekend Kim got a letter from Fred, much to her relief. She wrote him back hastily, telling him the date of the first Hogsmeade so that he would be _certain_ to have enough time to plan a visit. She knew Fred wasn’t very good at sticking to plans, but he knew this was really important to her. Didn’t he?

* * *

Kim made the trudge across the field toward Hagrid’s hut for Care of Magical Creatures the following week. When she approached him, a bit early to class, he was scowling deeply at the pinned in 

erumpent. For a normal person a scowl would be an expected reaction, since an erumpent was a fairly ugly beast with the body similar to a rhino with a long thick tale and a golden horn. But for Hagrid, his scowling was very odd since he seemed to think the deadly beast’s rampaging charges made it adorably energetic.

“Hagrid?” Kim asked, eyeing the erumpent similarly to how Hagrid was, but for entirely different reasons, she was sure. It was scratching at the ground angrily which generally meant it was ready to charge.

“Hm? Oh, it’s you,” he grumbled.

“Well, yeah, you realize class is in ten minutes.”

“Of course I do,” he objected. “Sit in yer seat, would ‘ya?”

Kim squinted at Hagrid. He lumbered over to where Buckbeak lounged in the fenced in area on the other side of his hut. He was living there, now that Sirius was… well, now that Sirius was gone.

 “Hagrid, what’s the matter?” she asked as he tossed buckbeak a dead ferret, which he caught in his beak and simultaneously snapped it nearly in two. He gobbled it up happily.

“Wha’? Noth’in.”

“Are you sure?” Kim said, drawing it out. “This wouldn’t have to do with the fact that Harry, Ron, and Hermione aren’t here still, is it?”

Last week Hagrid had maintained that the gang had simply missed class by accident. The new schedules must be confusing or something, he’d said. Kim knew, of course, that Harry, Ron, and Hermione hadn’t signed up for the N.E.W.T. level of Care of Magical Creatures, but she hadn’t had the heart to tell him so. She was a bit annoyed with the group of them for not talking to Hagrid about it themselves. They were essentially leaving it up to Kim to cover for them, something she _would_ do, but begrudgingly.

“No,” he grumbled in response to her question.

“Are you sure?” she said again slowly.

“Kim, why don’ you make yerself usful an’ check Mifsey’s water.” That was the name of the erumpent that was currently storming its pin a few yards away. _Mifsey._ _It’s not a poodle,_ Kim had said when she first heard the name, but of course Hagrid had no idea why the name was unfitting.

“I’ll check Mifsey’s water, but only if you tell me the truth.”

“The truth, eh? The _truth_ is, I’m a li’le… _disappointed_ that Harry, Ron, and Hermione don’t find my classes good enough to bother!”

“Hagrid,” Kim said, trying to sound sympathetic. “I’m sure that’s not why—”

“I don’ care why.”

“Well, all I’m trying to say is, I’m sure it’s not _personal_.”

“It sure’s comin’ at a lousy time.”

“What do you mean?”

He sniffed loudly. Kim glanced around as some other students started to show up for class.

“Havn’t told yeh’ yet,” he muttered. Kim grabbed the pale beside the trough of water and went to fill it at the hand pump as he spluttered. “It’s… It’s… It’s Aragog!”

“Aragog?” Kim said, pausing in her yanking on the pump. She stood strait and took a step toward Hagrid, glancing at the gathering students. “Isn’t that the giant spider?” she whispered.

“He’s an acromantula, yeah,” Hagrid said, his face crumpled with distress, his eyes moving mournfully over the edge of the Forbidden Forest. “He’s not been actin’ righ’. I think somethin’s wrong with ‘em.”

“Oh… well, I’m sorry to hear that, Hagrid.”

“Yeh know…” he said, eyeing Kim now. “I got to go see ‘em again this afternoon…”

It seemed like Hagrid was waiting for her to volunteer for something, but she didn’t say a word. She hoisted up the full pale of water and shuffled toward the trough, expression changing from sympathetic to tight and unwilling.

“It’d be a…a big help if I didn’ have teh go alone.”

Kim took a silent deep breath as she emptied the water into the trough, getting her shoes all wet in the process. She groaned a little at her sopping socks and dropped the pale by her feet. Standing strait again she turned to face Hagrid.

“ _Fine._ I’ll go.”

“Really? Yeh would?” His demeanor had lightened so intensely that she couldn’t possibly take back her offer.

“Yes,” she said, sounding utterly unenthused. The idea of seeing an ancromantula should have enticed her, but for some reason it just felt like yet another burden to add to her long list. Her responsibilities and worries felt like they were ever growing. _What’s wrong with me? Aren’t you the girl who begged Hagrid to let you up close to see a dragon? Aren’t you the girl who gained Buckbeak’s trust on your first try for the whole class? What happened to_ that _girl?_

_She grew up,_ Kim thought somberly as she slouched onto a cut log that provided some seating for the class.

As promised Kim waited around after class, ruffling Buckbeak’s feathers and tossing acorns at him as Hagrid prepared for their journey to see Aragog. Strix, who must’ve caught sight of Kim and her favorite feathered friend on the grounds as she returned from hunting, swooped down to join them.

“Ready?”

“As ever,” Kim said, putting effort forward to sound lighter than she had before. Something about the darkness of the forest, however, made feeling light difficult. Normally she would enjoy a traps into the shadowy forest, but this felt different. The shadows felt different.

“Fallow me, then. Fang,” he called to the massive slobbery dog to flop along at his heels. Kim hopped over the fence out of Buckbeak’s enclosure and followed Hagrid into woods. They walked in silence for a while.

“You know,” Kim said, voice seeming to echo off the eerie, unnatural silence of the woods, “I meant what I said earlier. About Harry, Ron, and Hermione not taking your class this year.”

“Yeah,” Hagrid said, like he knew she’d meant it but didn’t much care.

“You can’t be _too_ hard on them, it’s—”

“Could’ve come and said somethin’,” Hagrid harrumphed.

Kim was silent. She couldn’t argue with him there, they _could_ have come and said something to him before classes started, or at any point last week. They _should_ have, but instead they left it with Kim to deal with.

A chill so deep it turned the marrow of her bones to frost passed up her arms and into her spine, distracting her from all other thoughts. She took a shuddering breath and looked about for the source of the dark feeling. But she didn’t have to look far. It was all around her. The trees were sick with it. The animals of the forest, silenced. The air was permeated with the pungent reek of wrongness.

“There’s something unnatural about these woods,” Kim murmured. “You know them. Have they been like this for long?”

Hagrid frowned and looked down at her. “Been like wha’?”

Kim grimaced and looked back to the uneven path ahead. “Nothing. Never mind.”

It was quite obvious when they were nearing Aragog’s home because there were spiders hiding in every shadow, some small and normal sized, others the size of a large dinner platter, and other still…

“Just wondering, what stops them from eating us?” Kim asked, eyeing a spider as it lowered itself from the canopy above, legs dancing methodically. It was larger than a bicycle.

“Eat us? No,” Hagrid said, as if the idea were preposterous, bordering upon insulting. “Aragog wouldn’t do tha’, an’ he wouldn’t let it happen.”

“Ah, that’s good. I mean, I believe you because, well… we’re still alive.”

“There he is,” Hagrid said, moving forward faster than Kim could easily keep up.

“Where?” Kim couldn’t see him because she was looking for a large spider. _This_ , however, was a massive, enormous spider, as Kim realized once it moved. Aragog spun around slowly at the sound of their approach until all eight of his baseball sized, shiny black eyes were facing Kim and Hagrid.

“Hagrid. I see you’ve led another human into my midst,” rolled out an impossibly deep voice.

_Another?_ Kim squeaked internally. Then she remembered how she’d heard about Aragog in the first place; Harry and Ron.

“Oh, she’s trust worthy. Helps me take care o’ the other critters, so…”

“I’ve told you, Hagrid. You can’t take care of me any longer.”

“I- I know wha’ yeh said, but… there’s got teh be _somethin’_ I can do ta—”

“No,” Aragog said forcefully. His voice was so deep and booming that Kim felt her chest rattle. “There is nothing, Hagrid. What ails me is beyond your control.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Kim asked, curiosity winning out over uneasiness.

“He won’ tell me!” Hagrid said desperately.

Aragog seemed to sigh then as a soft rumbling sound echoed from him. “It is not something you could understand.”

“Please,” Hagrid scoffed. “Why don’ yeh try me, Aragog! I’ve treated sick stranger ‘n you!”

“I am simply dyeing. The forest in which I live, with which I am tied, is poisoned.”

“Poisoned?” Hagrid said in disbelief. “Poisoned how? What’s poisonin’ it?”

Aragog rumbled lightly again, seeming almost exasperated, and very tired.

“You feel it too,” Kim said quietly. “The… wrongness.”

Aragog shifted toward Kim minutely. He blinked at her, as did Hagrid.

“I can feel it, what you’re talking about. It’s everywhere in the forest. Almost like it knows…”

“Knows what?” Aaragog said eagerly.

“It’s like it knows… that Voldemort is back.”

It was quiet for a pregnant pause.

“Wha’s tha’ got to do with this?” Hagrid said.

“It’s as I thought,” Aragog sighed, settling deeper into his webbed nest. “I knew such a sickening change could only mean one thing.”

“Kim, wha’r you two on abou’?”

“Ever since Voldemort returned the forests of Brittan haven’t been the same. Every now and then I can feel it when I’m in the castle, or just going for a walk outside. But it’s strongest in the forest. Like the trees and the animals know he’s back. The air is filled with fear and… something I can’t really explain. Like the natural order of things has been disturbed and everything is sick from it. Everything down to the dirt and the worms.”

“I’ve never known a human to be so perceptive of such things,” Aragog said.

“I guess I’m different than normal humans,” Kim said plainly. She realized after saying it how ominous it sounded. And yet, wasn’t it true? There was Strix, claws dug into Kim’s robes, head swiveling in all directions. _Harbinger of death, bad omen, Death’s_ _familiar._ If all those things were true, and Strix was her pet, no, her _sole…_ Kim’s patronus, her very spirit was embodied by this supposedly terrible omen that she loved; what did that make her?

In reflexive response to the thoughts she reached up and ran her fingers down Strix’s stomach affectionately.

“If it really is the forest,” Kim continued, “then he’s right. There’s nothing we can do for him.”

Surprisingly, Hagrid looked too dumfounded to argue.

“Go, Hagrid. Go back to your human worries. As it sounds, you will have many to come.”

“All righ’,” Hagrid finally agreed, turning begrudgingly. “But I’ll be back to visit yeh soon. Hear?”

Aragog didn’t answer, and Hagrid didn’t wait for him to. Kim followed him away from the spider infested valley and back toward the castle.

“Can yeh really feel all tha’? What yeh were talkin’ abou’?” Hagrid asked.

“Yeah, I can,” Kim said, brow furrowed.

“Tha’s not normal fer a witch yer age, is it?” Hagrid said. Kim smiled ruefully. She wasn’t sure it was a normal thing for a witch of any age.

* * *

The next day, Thursday, Kim had the entire day off from classes. She did not, however, have time to laze about all day, what with the lengthy essay she had to write for Professor Firenze on the senselessness of tea leaves, and the Herbology identification home work, _and_ the Defense Against the Dark Art’s essays on the usefulness of nonverbal spells.

Her concentration was broken however, somewhere around midafternoon while she sat by the fire in the Ravenclaw common room. Three girls sat in a grouping of chairs across from Kim, chattering amongst themselves. Normally this would be easy to tune out, but when she heard the name _Harry Potter_ it caught her attention, her eyes flicking up from her work to spy on them.

“Really? _Him_?” said a girl with red hair to Lisa Turpin, a witch in Kim’s year.

“Well, it’s all come out that he was right all along, he was telling the truth. Can you imagine? Facing You-Know-Who all by _himself_?” Lisa tittered. One of Kim’s eyebrows raised involuntarily.

“He does have sort of a cute-but-awkward way about him,” said Patty Larker to the red head conversationally.

“He does,” the red head admitted with a sigh as she leaned back, eyes looking off at the ceiling as if considering something.

“I just think he must be terribly brave,” continued Lisa.

“What about Hufflepuff?” said Patty.

“Who in their right minds would want to date a dimwitted hufflepuff,” remarked the red head, still staring off.

“There’ve been a cute one or two,” defended Patty.

“It’s not about what you’d _want_ , the question is if you _had_ to choose a boy from each house, who would you pick,” Lisa reminded them. Kim looked back down to her homework, interest in their conversation evaporating as quickly as it had appeared. She shook her head just slightly as she smiled to herself, thinking of how ironic it was that this time last year every girl in the school was repulsed by the lying maniac Harry Potter, and now they were swooning over him.

That Saturday Kim sat down at breakfast with ‘The Chosen One’ himself. She was pretty peeved at him too, since she had just a few days prior defended him to Hagrid whom he had _yet_ to talk to this semester.

“So are you all planning on just avoiding Hagrid forever, or…” she began, her aggravation audible.

“Oh,” Hermione said, drawn out like it pained her. “I know! I told you we need to talk to him! Is he terribly mad?”

“What do you think?”

“It’s not our fault!” Ron said, offended. Kim gave him a withered expression.

“We just need to talk to him, that’s all. Today,” said Hermione.

“We’ve got Quidditch tryouts this morning!” objected Ron. “ _And_ we’re supposed to be practicing that Aguamenti Charm from Flitwick! Anyway, explain what? How are we going to tell him we hated his stupid subject?”

“We didn’t hate it!” Hermione said, frowning.

“Speak for yourself, I haven’t forgotten the skrewts,” said Ron darkly.

“Oh, well then you’d love erumpents,” Kim remarked, thinking of the tough skinned beast and it’s long, sharp horn.

“I hate not talking to Hagrid,” Hermione said, looking upset.

“We’ll go down after quidditch,” Harry assured her. “But trials might take all morning, the number of people who have applied.”

“I forgot tryouts for the team are today,” Kim said.

“Yeah… I dunno why the team’s this popular all of a sudden.”

“Oh, come on, Harry,” said Hermione, suddenly impatient. “It’s not _quidditch_ that’s popular, it’s you! You’ve never been more interesting, and frankly, you’ve never been more fanciable.”

Kim chuckled at Ron as he gagged on a large piece of kipper. Hermione spared him a look of disdain before turning back to Harry.

“Everyone knows you’ve been telling the truth now, don’t they? The whole Wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about Voldemort being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. And now they’re calling you ‘the Chosen One’. Well, come on, can’t you see why people are fascinated by you?”

“By _people_ she means _girls_ ,” Kim said with a theatrical whisper. Kim was quite enjoying Harry’s discomfort. You’d think by 16 he would be less abashed by the idea of girls, but there he was, getting red cheeked and bothered.

“ _And_ you’ve been through all that prosecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar,” Hermione continued. “You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway…”

“Where’s _my_ parade,” Kim said sardonically, holding up her hand. It was hard to read, but if one looked close they could make out that ‘I must not love beasts’ was still etched in her skin. She’d covered it up with magic makeup that did away with scars and blemishes while she had been at home with her mother, but she didn’t bother with all that most days. “Guess it’s not as flattering on a girl,” she said, looking sideways at Ron and then shrugging.

“And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve grown about a foot over the summer either,” Hermione finished, ignoring both Kim’s remark and Ron’s disgruntled features.

“I’m tall,” said Ron inconsequentially.

Just then owls arrived, speckling the table with water from the rain outside and dropping fat loads of mail before students. Kim had a letter from Fred, which she hastily opened and read, tuning out the groups conversation in the background.

_Kim,_

_I promise that I will not forget about Hogsmeade. Things are getting really busy with the shop. The Ministry has actually started using some of our protection devises and we’ve got a huge order to fill for them. Its big money, but it’s a lot of work. But of course, I always have time for you, love._

_George says you smell like dragon ass,_

_Love, Fred_

And then scribbled on the bottom was a slightly different hand;

_P.S. I did not say you smell like dragon ass. Do good in school. Can’t be worse than us, so you’ve already won there._

_\--George_

The smile on Kim’s face lasted her all through breakfast. Afterword she followed Harry, Ron, and Hermione to the quidditch pitch. She’d been roped into watching Ron try out, since it was a real big deal weather or not he made it on the team. Kim rolled her eyes at the idea. _But_ she was their friend so she should at least make an attempt at caring.

When she and Hermione climbed into the stands to watch they found that there was an incredible crowd gathered to watch the tryouts, more than Kim would have ever expected. Then, after a sweeping glance around before sitting beside Hermione, she realized that more than the vast majority of the on lookers were girls. As were the vast majority of the students trying out for the team, which Kim thought also was probably due to Harry’s new found popularity.

“I’m just waiting for them to announce that inter species relationships are the new fad so that I can be famous too,” Kim remarked. She thought it was rather funny seeing as how she’d been made infamous last year because of her relationship with an andasoe, and Harry had been made infamous by his relationship with getting into serious trouble on a regular basis and having no one else to corroborate his story. Hermione however, seemed to only find it upsetting as she withered a bit and almost looked guilty.

“It did pass though, didn’t it?” she said. “Like I said I would. I haven’t heard anything about you or… you know.”

“About me being a dirty beast fucker?”

Hermione blanched.

“Lighten up,” Kim chuckled, running a hand through her now dark reddish-brown hair to try and soak up some of the dew droplets. Judging by the sky it would probably start to rain again before the tryouts were over.

As it turned out the tryouts were painstakingly long, and sprinklings of rain did intermittently come down on the field of onlookers and quidditch players. And of course Harry saved keeper for last so Kim was forced to stay the whole time, talking idly with Hermione.

“Oh,” Hermione fretted as Cormac McLaggen, the last to try out for keeper aside from Ron, successfully saved his fourth goal.

“He’s doing pretty good,” Kim said, dismayed. She found the longer she watched the more she _did_ hope Ron got the spot. It was important to him. On the other hand, if he didn’t that would mean significantly less groans of self-loathing and grumpy attitudes after losing a game.

“He’s doing _too_ good. At this rate, Ron won’t be able to keep up!”

“Maybe he will,” Kim reasoned, though she somehow doubted it. Cormac was about to save his fifth goal now. The quaffle flew through the air. Judging by his posture he was watching, calculating exactly where he needed to fly, he was about to dart for it and then—

“What the-” Kim said, eyes wide as Cormac darted in completely the wrong direction, letting the quaffle got strait through his center hoop. Kim’s peripheral vision caught on Hermione’s hand moving back to the pocket of her robes. She was pocketing her wand quite slickly. Kim’s eyes slid up to meet Hermione’s. She looked a bit guilty, eyes darting back and forth.

“Did you just-?” A sly smile was creeping onto Kim’s lips at the thought of the _noble_ Hermione cheating.

“Well, I-I-”

“Did you jinx Cormac so he would _miss_?” Kim asked in an excited whisper. She could hardly believe that it was true, but the increasingly guilty look on Hermione’s face gave it away. “You did!”

“Well! He’s _such_ a terrible boy, and Ron is good, he really is, he just needs to get a bit more confidence!”

Kim laughed as Cormac landed on the field and stomped off angrily. “Oh my gosh, Hermione,” she said, still reveling.

“Oh! Here he goes,” Hermione said, chewing on the inside of her cheek as Ron swung a leg over his broom.

“Good luck!” cried a voice from below them in the stands. Kim frowned, eyes landing on the voice’s owner.

“Lavender?” Kim muttered, wondering what on earth Lavender Brown cared about Ron’s success in quidditch. Then, as Lavender buried her face in her hands theatrically, it clicked.

“What a complete air head,” Hermione grumbled, folding her arms across her chest with force as she stared at the field determinately. She did sneak a glance or two toward Lavender, though, which only made her scowl deepen.

“Seriously,” Kim agreed, though she didn’t truly have an opinion either way. Hermione’s sudden change in demeanor made Kim inclined to agree with her regardless. All that was important was Hermione didn’t like her, probably solely based on the fact that she clearly liked Ron and was much more showy about it than Hermione. Kim was fine with pretending to dislike Lavender if it made Hermione feel better. That’s what friends were for. “Does Ron even know she exists? She’s really stretching it.”

“I know. What’s worse is any amount of attention from girls gives him such an awful big head,” Hermione glowered. _Except for attention from Hermione_. Kim was sure that was what she was thinking as her glair slowly dissolved into a hopeless stair into the distance. She did lighten considerably however as Ron blocked one, two, _three_ goals without too much effort.

“He’s doing _great_!” she said, bouncing excitedly. He blocked two more and that put him ahead of the other applicants. “He did it!” Hermione cheered as Ron flew back down to the green. Kim clapped and cheered alongside Hermione. As Harry gathered the team to congratulate them on making the cut Kim followed Hermione from the bleachers.

“You did brilliantly, Ron!” she called from the sidelines, making Ron beam at her and then at the team around him. _He does notice when you notice him, Hermione,_ Kim thought, looking at the toothy grin on Ron’s face. He looked lighter than air. _If only you two weren’t such bashful dorks,_ she thought affectionately, smiling at Hermione’s excited features.

After Harry had finished speaking with the team, he, Kim, Ron, and Hermione made their way to Hagrid’s. She was glad they were at long last going to speak with him. The sun was starting to burst through the clouds in rays of brilliant speckled light, and Kim was for once starting to forget about her worries. It felt good to be this light.

“I thought I was going to miss that fourth penalty,” Ron said happily as they crossed the field to Hagrid’s hut. “Tricky shot from Demelza, did you see, had a bit of spin on it—”

“Yes, yes, you were magnificent,” said Hermione, looking amused.

_You two are so cute,_ but Kim knew if she said it aloud it would only make them reel with embarrassment, so she simply smiled peevishly to herself.

“I was better than that McLaggen anyway,” said Ron in a highly satisfied voice. “Did you see him lumbering off in the wrong direction on his fifth? Looked like he’d been Confunded…”

Kim had to work very hard to keep the grin off her face, and she was certain she hadn’t quite succeeded. Hermione glanced at her in slight alarm and then got very red as she watched the ground before them.

By now they had approached Buckbeak’s enclosure, however, so no one else seemed to notice. The hippogriff stood as the group approached and gathered himself in a noble pose.

“Such a show off,” Kim muttered as she continued forward without worry, approaching the fence.

“Oh dear,” said Hermione nervously. “He’s still a bit scary, isn’t he?”

“Come off it, you’ve ridden him, haven’t you?” said Ron as Kim hoisted herself over the railing and dropped onto the other side, reaching out a hand to Buckbeak who nuzzled her eagerly.

“Harry followed her lead, though much more reluctantly. Once inside the fence he stopped short and waited. As Kim stepped away from him, Harry bowed low without breaking eye contact or blinking. Buckbeak sank into a bow too, lowering his front legs to the ground. Kim once again was reminded of her own skill with magical creatures. _This is who I am_ , she tried to remind herself, sticking her fingers into the hippogriff’s downy feathers. _It might not be_ all _I am anymore, but it’s still there. That’s okay, isn’t it?_

Kim stepped away from Buckbeak as Harry approached to pet gently along his face. She leaned against the fence, feeling a little uneasy about herself. Harry muttered something to Buckbeak that Kim couldn’t quite hear, though she thought she caught the phrase ‘missing him’ amongst the breathy sounds of his lowered voice. _Of course,_ Kim thought, _Buckbeak was with Sirius for so long…_

“Oi!” came a sudden, unmistakable voice from within Hagrid’s hut, breaking her from her thoughts. Hagrid came stomping out of his cabin wearing a large flowery apron and carrying a sack of potatoes. Fang was at his heels until he caught sight of the group. He gave a booming bark and bounded forward.

“Git away from him! He’ll have yer fingers-” Hagrid began, until he looked up to see the group of them standing there. “Oh. It’s yeh lot.”

“Don’t lump me in with them,” Kim said in a high voice, feigning offence. Neither Hagrid nor the rest of the group seemed to find it funny. Fang was assaulting Ron and Harry with slobber as Hermione looked stricken at Hagrid who turned on them and strode into his cabin slamming the door behind him.

“Oh dear!” said Hermione, forlorn.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Harry grimly. He walked over to the door and banged on it, Kim following along with Hermione and Ron.

“Hagrid! Open up, we want to talk to you!”

Silence followed.

“If you don’t open the door, we’ll blast it open!” Harry said, pulling out his wand.

“That’s one way to handle this,” Kim remarked sardonically, “with all the delicacy of a giant.”

“You can’t possibly—” started Hermione.

“Yeah, I can!” said Harry. “Stand back—”

But just as he was raising his wand the door flew open. Hagrid glowered down at Harry, eyebrows sinking lower over his beady black eyes than Kim thought she’d ever seen them.

“I’m a teacher!” he roared at Harry. “A teacher, Potter! How dare yeh threaten ter break down my door!”

“Hagrid, just let us in. Stop being so melodramatic,” Kim grumbled, pushing past Hagrid and into his house, much to the alarm and utter disbelief of Hermione and Ron.

“Well…” Harry said flatly as Kim slouched into a seat. He then directed his gaze to Hagrid who looked angry, but deflated. “Well, I’m sorry, _sir_ ,” Harry said as he too moved past Hagrid, still stationed halfway blocking the door.

“Since when have yeh called me ‘sir’?”

“Since when have you called me ‘Potter’?” Harry retorted coolly as he sat beside Kim.

“Oh, very clever,” Hagrid grumbled. “Very amusin’. That’s me outsmarted, innit? Well the rest o’ yeh may as well come in. Not like I got a choice in the ma’er.” He waved a broad hand at Ron and Hermione as he stepped out of the way. The two of them hurried inside, followed by Fang. Hermione sat on Kim’s other side, looking a bit scared and uncomfortable. Ron sat across from her, wide eyed but more surprised looking than frightened.

“Well?” said Hagrid. “What’s this? Feelin’ sorry for me? Reckon I’m lonely or summat?”

“No,” said Harry at once. “We wanted to see you.”

“We’ve missed you!” said Hermione tremulously.

“Missed me, have yeh?” snorted Hagrid. “Yeah. Right.”

Kim made a clicking sound with her mouth and rolled her eyes. Hagrid stomped around his cabin, brewing up some tea while muttering to himself. The group was quiet for a few moments so Kim finally spoke up.

“Are you going to carry on being mellow dramatic all day?”

Hagrid slammed down four bucket sized mugs of tea on a trey, as well as rock heard biscuits large enough to be cakes. Harry took one at once, though Kim couldn’t imagine he thought they would taste edible.

“Hagrid,” Hermione said timidly. Hagrid merely swiveled his glowering eyes from Kim to Hermione before he plopped down and began angrily peeling potatoes. “We really wanted to carry on with Care of Magical Creatures, you know.”

Hagrid snorted loudly, not looking at them.

“We did!” Hermione insisted. “But none of us could fit it into our schedules!”

“She managed!” Hagrid growled, much to Kim’s wide-eyed horror. They all looked at her, Ron a bit accusatorily, and Harry as if he wished she hadn’t come.

“Hagrid,” Kim said in a high voice. “My classes are totally different! I’m not even taking charms, or transfiguration. _They_ are.”

Just then there was a phlegmy sounding squeak coming from a barrel behind Ron. He looked over his shoulder and jumped up in disgust, peering into the barrel from as far away as he could manage. Kim stretched up so she could see inside the barrel. Giant maggots squirmed up to its brim.

“What are they, Hagrid?” said Hermione.

“Jus’ giant grubs.”

“And they grow into…?” asked Ron apprehensively.

“They won’ grow inter nuthin’,” said Hagrid. “I got ‘em ter feed ter Aragog.” And just like that his eyes were welling with tears over his sick pet… if it could be called such.

“Oh… Hagrid,” Kim said sympathetically while the others merely looked alarmed.

“What’s the matter?” Hermione asked, leaping up to put an arm around him.

“It’s….him…” gulped Hagrid. He paused to mop his face with his apron.

“It’s Aragog,” Kim explained to them bleakly, since Hagrid seemed to be having a bit of trouble articulating. “He’s… not well.”

“Oh,” Hermione said slowly, clearly trying to sound disappointed by the news when she wasn’t. “Well, that’s…. awful.”

“I don’ know what I’ll do if he…if he…” Hagrid wailed, fresh tears spilling over his furry cheeks. “We’ve ben tergether so long…”

“Is there-” Hermione began uncertainly, glancing at Kim as if for help. “Is there anything we can do?” Ron gave a frantic grimace, shaking his head in tiny motions. As much as watching him panic was funny, Kim figured she’d go ahead and relieve him.

“No,” she said simply. They all looked both relieved and horrified as Hagrid choked on his tears. “Hagrid and I visited him just the other day,” she explained. “He’s… well, there’s just nothing that can be done.”

“Oh, well… I’m so sorry to hear that, Hagrid,” Hermione offered desperately.

Hagrid gave a great sniffle and began attempting to wipe down his face again. “’S all righ’. I’ll miss ‘em terrible once he’s gone. But thanks fer tryin’, Hermione… It means a lot…”

“Of course,” she said.

Hagrid then sighed and leaned back in his seat a bit, facial features relaxing considerably from his angry grimace.

“Ar, I always knew yeh’d find it hard ter squeeze me inter yer timetables,” he said gruffly. “Even if yeh applied fer Time-Turners—”

“We couldn’t have done,” said Hermione. “The entire stock of Ministry Time-Turners were smashed during the attack last summer. It was in the _Daily Prophet._ ”

“Ar, well then,” said Hagrid. “There’s no way yeh could’ve done it… I’m sorry I’ve bin, yeh know… I’ve jus’ bin worried abou’ Aragog… an’ I did wonder whether, if Professor Grubbly-Plank had been teachin’ yeh—”

“What? No, certainly not!” said Hermione theatrically. It wasn’t necessarily a _lie,_ since the group of them wouldn’t be able to fit it into their schedules one way or another.

“No way,” agreed Harry.

Ron nodded in agreement. “Grubbly-Plank was rubbish.”

“Yeah, real rubbish,” said Harry. This _was_ a lie, but Kim wasn’t going to call them on it. Hagrid needed the boost in self-esteem at the moment.


	4. Borrowed Gloves and Butter-Drunk Confessions

Chapter 4

Borrowed Gloves and Butter-Drunk Confessions

The next two weeks passed uneventfully. Kim waited for Fred to write back to her impatiently. _What’s taking him so bloody long anyway? Doesn’t he know that this is the_ only _way for us to keep in contact? Or maybe he doesn’t care about that anymore… Don’t be immature, Kim. Of course he cares… He’s probably just really busy, like he said…_

One Saturday afternoon Kim was walking through the corridors headed to the Great Hall for dinner when she heard someone calling out for her from behind, followed by footsteps speeding up laboriously toward her.

“Oh! Ms. Shimmers!”

Kim turned to see Professor Slughorn chugging along toward her. He slowed when he reached her and smiled warmly.

“I was _hoping_ I’d run into you eventually,” he said, as if it was the chiefest of happy happenstances. _Hogwarts isn’t_ that _big, Professor. We were bound to see one another eventually…_ she thought, but she kept her smart mouth shut. “I’ve been wanting to mention to you- well, you’ve probably already heard. I have a little sort of club forming up.”

“The Slug Club?” Kim said flatly. She had heard of it, since both Harry and Hermione were invited to join. Hermione had reported that the club meetings weren’t too bad, with good food and interesting conversation. Kim wondered, however, about the quality of so called _interesting conversations_. Hermione found Arithmancy interesting, so her judgment was questionable.

“Yes! So you _have_ heard of it,” Professor Slughorn crooned.

Kim just nodded, waiting for the relevance of this conversation to reveal itself.

“I wanted to invite you to join the ranks, if you’re interested.”

“Oh, uh… thanks,” Kim said, surprised. She genuinely hadn’t expected such, since she didn’t exactly count herself among the famously talented. She was only alright at potions, and she wasn’t all that great at most other _respectable_ magic. “Really?”

“Why yes,” he said, delighted at her surprise. “I’ve heard word recently of your skills in divination. I don’t yet have a pupil with the sight, and don’t you just find that diversity keeps life interesting?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“So, what do you say? Will you join?”

Kim didn’t know what to say. The idea of her with a group of goody-goodys partaking in pomp and circumstance was not exactly an appealing one. Then again, Hermione would be there to at least make it bearable, and how exactly was she to say no? _Sorry Professor, but I think your head is almost as big as your ass. I have absolutely no interest in joining your collection of real life dolls._

“Uh, yeah,” she said unevenly. “Thank you.”

“ _Splendid_! I look forward to it. See you in potions class.” And with that he trotted off down the hall. _Well, maybe this_ Slug Club _will turn out to be a boost for the career search after school,_ she tried to think hopefully, but were she being honest she didn’t look forward to her first club meeting in the slightest.

* * *

For the past month Kim had been trying to understand what had happened with the ring in the Gaunt shack. She’d pored through all the related texts in the restricted section of the library, to no avail. She’d begun looking through the books in Dumbledore’s office, as he had promised her the privilege the year before.

One evening she was doing just that, and reaching her wits end in the search.

 “Dumbledore,” she said, pulling him from his work jarringly, “have you really made no progress on the ring?”

He stared at her for a brief moment and then the edges of his lips turned up just slightly, as if he were fighting a smile. Kim’s brow bent a fraction in bewilderment.

“Is that what you’re researching so fervently?” he said.

“Well, yes… it’s important, isn’t it? The ring isn’t _just_ the resurrection stone, if it _is_ the resurrection stone at all. What was that dark feeling? The evil resonating from it was real. Was it just the curse I was feeling? And what _about_ the curse? What’s going to happen to your hand?”

 “I had the same questions, of course. I’ve been doing some research on my own about the second presence that we evidently destroyed with the sword of Gryffindor.”

“So I was right… There _was_ a second presence?”

“Yes,” he said, a slight tug on the side of his lips telling her she was on the right track. She was on a train of thought he’d already traveled, which meant… “You’ve already figured it out, haven’t you?”

“Not nearly, Kim, not nearly,” he said with a wry smile.

“But you _have_ figured something out. You said you would tell me,” she complained, unable to keep the hint of accusation from her tone.

“I did… and I shall… but I warn you now, all of this is yet conjecture. As I’m sure you know, I’ve been meeting with Harry.”

“Yes...”

“Together we’ve been searching through memories. Attempting to find evidence of what the ring might’ve been… But I believe it did belong to Lord Voldemort, most likely still when he was known to the world only as Tom Riddle.”

“It felt like him,” she said at once without considering it. She realized immediately afterword that it was of course true, though she hadn’t quite acknowledged it until then. The ring, the darkness around it, it had _felt_ like Voldemort, the same way that Harry’s darkness felt. The same way visions of him felt. It was a joyous evil, writhing and celebrating in its own deep darkness.

“The ring?” he asked, head lowering as a flash of interest crossed his features.

“Yes… the ring before we stabbed it. Now it just… well it feels powerful still, but it’s not the same.”

“Explain to me exactly what you mean. How did it _feel_ like Voldemort?”

“Well… I’ve had a number of visions of Voldemort. Of his return to power… And like I’ve told you, I’ve felt his presence inside Harry. His force, his… _entity_ is a very dark and potent one. I can’t be positive, none of this is a certain, measurable field of knowledge, but… I think I would recognize his presence if there was one, and there _definitely_ was one on that ring.”

Dumbledore looked deep in thought. He hummed low in his throat as he frowned off at nothing and rubbed above his lip. “Very well,” he finally sighed. “It’s seeming more and more likely that some dark magic was left behind purposefully by Voldemort, something other than the curse. It’s troubling… but it brings me closer to the answer none the less.”

“And what about the curse. Is your hand…”

“It will remain as such, yes,” he said, peering down at his blackened, charred fingers absentmindedly.

“So you figured out what the curse was?”

“Merely a protective mechanism, to keep people from leaving with the ring. Were it not for your fast thinking, it certainly would have killed me before I was able to apparate away.”

Kim frowned. Though she recognized he was complimenting her, by the tightness in his features and the way he wasn’t looking at her, she suspected there was more.

“But… are you okay? Is the curse gone, no harm done accept your hand?”

His features hardened only an inch for only an instant, but they told all.

“Professor…” Kim said cautiously.

His lips cracked into a rueful smile. “I suppose there is no point in attempting to hide it from you.”

“No there isn’t,” she said, shifting in her seat uncomfortably. “Hide what from me?”

“The curse… while you did stop it from spreading by destroying the dark entity within the ring, what damage was done to me cannot be undone. With the help of Professor Snape, we were able to slow the curses progression.”

“Slow… what will happen when it spreads?”

The following silence was piercing. “I will die.”

Kim’s eyes widened and her throat got tight. “Y-you’ll-” She tried to speak, but she didn’t quite know what she was saying.

“I’m very old, Kim, as you may have noticed,” he said. He smiled a tired smile. “My time on this earth has been well lived. To morn its end would be intemperate.”

“H-… How long?” she said in a meek, hallow voice that didn’t at all sound her own. “Until the curse spreads, how long do you have?”

He paused. “A year, roughly. In that time the curse will spread and kill me.”

Kim stared blankly at the desk. She couldn’t look at Dumbledore. She couldn’t believe what he was saying. _A year… A year is so little. We have so much to do in so little time and then… no… he’ll find a way. He’s Dumbledore, he_ has _to find a way to fight this thing!_

“I ask that you don’t morn my death either, Kim. Especially since it has yet to pass?” he said as if it were a question. _He’s asking you to keep your shit together._ She grimaced and pulled herself from foreboding thoughts.

“Right.” She gave a stern nod. “Well… In the meantime, we’ve got work to do.”

He smiled fondly then and Kim felt a tugging at her heart. _This moment. That look, like I’ve done something worth praise. This is how I want to remember him._

“Right you are, Kim. Right you are. Harry and I will continue our search for answers about the type of magic used on the ring. If we find the answer…”

“You’ll tell me.”

Dumbledore nodded. Kim sighed and stood, starting for the door but stopping when Dumbleoder said, “And Kim… I must ask that you tell no one of this curse.”

“Does Harry know?” she asked bleakly. She felt certain she already knew the answers. Dumbledore was always trying to shelter Harry. She supposed she was guilty of that too, but how much was too far?

“No. And I feel…”

“It should stay that way,” she finished for him, finally tearing her gaze from the door ahead of her to turn and face him. “He’s going to find out eventually. Don’t you think he deserves some fair warning? You are… important to him, after all.”

“He’ll be given warning,” Dumbledore said with a faint nod. “I assure you. But it should be me, and it must come… at the opportune time.”

“All right,” Kim sighed, turning for the door again. “I won’t say a word.”

“Thank you.”

With that she was gone from his office to wallow in what she had learned. She still couldn’t quite believe it. And maybe it would be easier not to. How could she or Harry possibly hope to defeat Voldemort without Dumbledore? A world without him simply wasn’t a safe place anymore.

For the next week Kim slowly managed to banish the thought of Dumbledore’s imminent death from her mind. October 12th was fast approaching, the date of the first Slug Club dinner that she would be attending with Hermione.

“Excited for Slug Club, Hermione?” she asked bleakly Saturday afternoon.

“I suppose,” she said, evidently missing the sarcasm in Kim’s voice. Kim plopped down in the seat next to her, making her close her book. Ron and Harry sat across from them on another couch, scribbling homework.

“I’m sure the lot of you will have _loads_ of fun,” Ron said snidely. He had not been given an invitation.

“Ron, not being invited isn’t a big deal,” Kim said in exasperation. “Harry’s over here trying desperately to get out of it! I would too if I could come up with an excuse.”

“I’ve got quidditch practice!” he defended in a high voice.

“As if you’re not thankful.”

“There really not that bad,” Hermione said. “You’ll see Kim.” Ron rolled his eyes faintly and went back to his homework. Hermione turned over her wrist to look at her watch. “It’s actually getting close to time now. Want to head over there a bit early?”

“Sure,” Kim agreed. She had nothing better to do. Once the two of them were out of ear shot of Ron and Harry and were making their way down a deserted hall, Kim decided it was her chance to talk to Hermione without boy ears listening. “Hermione… if you were in a long distance relationship, how often would you expect correspondence?”

Hermione looked at her knowingly and then turned her gaze back to the hall before them, pondering the question. Kim was thankful for this chance to talk to Hermione about Fred. She had to avoid the subject around Clemon because she would just be a storm cloud about Fred, and Luna wasn’t exactly the person Kim liked to talk to about these topics.

“I suppose I’d expect it pretty often. As often as possible? Every week or two?”

“Exactly! Yes!”

“Something with Fred?”

Kim shook her head in exasperation. “I don’t know… he just hasn’t written to me in a _while_.”

“How long?”

Kim thought for a second. “At least a month.” Saying it aloud made it sound even worse. _A whole_ month? _What if something’s happened to him!_ “Should I send another letter?” she fretted.

“I don’t know,” Hermione said with a shrug. “A month… _is_ a bit of a long time…”

“Yeah… maybe my letter never reached him!” she suddenly realized. The idea was so pleasing that she latched onto it immediately.

“Maybe,” Hermione agreed hopefully.

“Yeah, maybe he never got the letter. I’ll just write him another tonight and I’m sure I’ll hear back from him.”

Soon they were reaching Slughorn’s office where a round table was set out and dinner served. The food _was_ as promised; delicious, and the conversation, while not exactly how Kim would choose to spend her Saturday evening, was moderately entertaining.

After the meeting Kim went up to Ravenclaw Tower to send a letter to Fred. She was trying to sound the perfect balance of casual, in case he really didn’t receive her first letter, and urgent in the case that he did and just hadn’t gotten around to answering. But then again, even if he hadn’t gotten her letter, wouldn’t he think to write _her_?

_Dear Fred,_

_I really miss you, you know. It’s been a while since you’ve written. Did you get my last letter? The one where I talked about the first week of school? If not, I understand, mail is funny some times. But I hope you’ll write me back soon. If not, I’ll just see you at Hogsmeade next weekend. I’m really looking forward to seeing you. I love you_

_Kim_

As the week went by, Kim _did_ get a letter from Fred back, and the relief that washed over her was immense. Even upon reading it, though she had mixed feelings about the news that he _had_ gotten her previous letter, she was predominantly just happy that he had finally written her at all.

_Dear Kim,_

_Sorry! I did get your last letter, and I meant to answer it, you know I did. Things have just been mad busy these past few weeks. George and I eat, breath, and sleep the joke shop, which you know is just fine by us, but it doesn’t leave a lot of time for other things. But, I’ve always got time for you, love. See you at Hogsmeade_

_Love,_

_Fred_

And so the week crawled by at a deathly pace. Kim’s anticipation for the coming weekend was more than she could bare, and evidently more than her friends could bare either.

“Oh, for _Merlin’s sake_!” Clemon snapped, catching Kim day dreaming yet again when they were supposed to be doing homework together in the common room.

“What?” she said in a guilty voice.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know, it’s all over your face!”

“Sorry! It’s just _tomorrow_! I can’t help but be excited!”

“Well if you don’t finish this damned essay now, when do you expect to have the time? You’re going to be gone all day Saturday!”

“I know…” Kim said, smiling dreamily and staring off again. Clemon groaned loudly in response, making Kim laugh. She might’ve been playing it up a bit for Clemon’s reaction, but she was genuinely having a hard time focusing on the on sight treatments for Venomous Tentacula injuries.

And then finally it was Saturday. Kim rocketed out of bed and hurried for breakfast, as if that would make the day start sooner. She waited impatiently in the line of students trying to get out to Hogsmeade, awaiting security probing. The heightened security was barley an issue on her mine at all, however, and soon enough she was traversing the bitter cold of the streets of Hogsmeade. She hurried down the center street until there, still a ways down the path coming toward her with fingers stuffed in pockets, was a tall, gangly, red haired boy.

Kim waved franticly and hurried forward. Fred caught sight of her and waved too, but there was something reluctant in it. She ignored the nagging idea that something was the matter and hurried to meet him.

As she drew closer however, her footsteps slowed. Fred’s features, though almost completely right, were missing a few things. The dark freckle under his right eye. The crooked hook in his nose. The sharp, knowing expression.

“George?” she said breathlessly as she slowed completely to a stop. George was looking a bit embarrassed and had his hands dug deep into his pockets. He took a few more uneasy steps until he was only a few paces from Kim.  

“Hey, Kim.”

“Hey. I didn’t know you would be here,” she said, expression lightening. “Where’s Fred?”

George’s look of discomfort grew. He glanced up at her from the ground, but didn’t look at her directly for long. Kim, growing impatient looked around at the street behind George for his near identical.

“In the Three Broomsticks already? Or-” she said, and then caught George’s expression which was still pained. “George, what’s the matter?”

“Kim… Fred’s not here.”

Kim’s expression was blank. “What do you mean?”

“He couldn’t come. He’s not here, he sent me to tell yo—”

“He’s not coming?” Her voice was high and disbelieving. All the excitement and anticipation was coming crashing down around her and it was hard to fully understand how she felt in that moment.

“I’m really sorry, Kim.”

“I don’t believe it…” she breathed, and then the hot embers of rage glowed, exposed to the dead carcass of her withered excitement, it flared out of her chest and ate up the energy that had once been made for good. “He’s not _coming_!” she yelled. “You have got to be-” an uncontrollable growl of frustration cut off her words. “I _told_ him _explicitly_ how important this was to me! Why? Why couldn’t be here, let’s hear his _grand_ excuse!”

George held up his hands like he was taming a lion and said calmly, “I understand being angry.”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fucking angry, he _said a hundred times_ he’d be here!”

“All I ask,” he said a bit louder so he could be heard over her yelling, “is that you don’t shoot the messenger.”

This deflated her anger immediately. Of course whatever had happened wasn’t George’s fault. And, unlike Fred, _he_ was here. And once the anger at Fred was being stored back in it’s box, she realized that she was happy to see at least George.

“Fine,” she said in forfeit, shoulders slumping and arms going limp. “What were you trying to say…”

“Fred’s in business negotiations right now,” George said. “He sent me to tell you he wouldn’t be able to make it. They… went on longer than expected.”

“Business negotiations?”

“For the shop, yeah. A new product we’re working on requires some… unusual ingredients. Problem is, usually the stuff would cost us more than we can afford and still expect to make profit. So we’re trying to negotiate some kind of agreement with the dealer.”

“… Are these ingredients illegal,” Kim said, eyes narrowing.

“Well…” George said in a high voice, squeezing his shoulders up to his ears. “It’s a blurred line, we’ll leave it at that.”

Kim let out a hiss of air and shook her head, a small smile on her lips despite herself. “So negotiations… you _had_ to do this today? I mean seriously, and why the hell are _you_ able to come here and not Fred?” she demanded.

George sighed, starting to walk down the street with Kim by his side. “Because he’s better at negotiating than I am. You know how he is, he thinks if he wants something done right, _he_ has to do it himself.”

“I have a seriously hard time believing you couldn’t handle it.”

“I tried to tell him that.”

Kim shot him a dark look.

“I did! I swear, I tried to convince him to come, Kim, but he’s a stubborn ass.”

“He _knew_ how important this was to me…”

“Yeah… I know.”

“How are we supposed to have a relationship if he can’t put forward his half of the effort! Long distance wasn’t going to be easy, we knew that. He can’t just expect things to be fine if he doesn’t try at all!”

“I know,” George said again. “I told him so.”

“And he _still_ insisted to stay behind?” Kim turned on George, the hurt in her chest starting to affect her features. George looked at her, seeming more genuinely sorry for her than Kim actually deserved. But that was George, wasn’t it? He always cared, always cared about Kim. If only she could get Fred to be that way…

“You deserve better,” he said, voice oddly hallow. Kim averted her eyes, embarrassed by the genuine tenner in his words. She muttered to make some kind of argument against this, but he interrupted. “No, seriously. You do, you deserve better then how he’s being. Don’t let him take you for granted.”

“You think he takes me for granted?” She didn’t know how to feel. She was hurt that Fred might not feel the same gratefulness that she felt for their relationship. But she was also flattered that George would say such things, that he would think she was something worthy of being grateful for. And then lastly, she couldn’t stop the nagging part of her that doubted wholly that she _was_ something worth being grateful for. _It’s just me… I’m not really all that great, really. George would know that if he were my boyfriend instead of Fred, he just doesn’t realize because he’s seeing things from the outside._

George shrugged in response to her question. “You want the truth?”

“Well, yeah…”

“He forgot about today. He forgot until that letter you sent him at the beginning of this week.”

“He forgot?” Kim said, hurt resurfacing. “Didn’t he want to see me?”

“I’m sure he did, but it just slipped his mind. We _have_ been busy, in his defense. _But,_ I _told_ him we could reschedule our meeting with the dealer. But he insisted if we rescheduled it might muddy our chances at making the deal.” He snorted and shook his head. “He’s taking the shop way too seriously.”

“And you?” Kim asked, looking up at him where he stood before her. She couldn’t help but watch the way his round brown eyes danced around her features and then away.

“Of course I take it seriously. But…” His eyes slowed unusually long, peering deeply into Kim’s. “There are other more important things in our lives too.”

She stared at him for a drawn moment, and then she felt her cheeks get warm despite the cold. Her heart gave an uncomfortable thud and she looked away, embarrassed. _What is he saying? That_ I’m _all that important? Certainly he couldn’t think that, he’s not even my boyfriend. But then again… he’s here, and Fred’s not. Doesn’t that mean something?_

She started meandering down the street again as to avoid long pauses of staring at George. He walked a bit stiffly along beside her.

“So you’re saying he knew he wasn’t going to be able to meet me here since earlier this week and he didn’t say anything.”

Again George shrugged. “I don’t know… when I told him we should reschedule, _reminded_ him what a big deal you made about making sure he could meet you, he kept saying some rubbish about how the deal wouldn’t take all day. I don’t know how he figured… maybe he really just overestimated himself,” he chuckled.

“Still… he should have said something. He should have _remembered,_ god damn it! _How_ many times did I remind him?” she exclaimed.

“I know.”

Kim growled again under her breath and looked up at Zonko’s shop which they had just reached in their meander down the street. It was boarded up, seemingly closed down for good.

“I can’t believe they closed up,” Kim remarked, stopping before the once joyous and lively shop. It made her think of simpler times when she and the twins were just friends and nothing was complicated. She thought, ruefully, that things had never _really_ been simple between her and the boys for long, but there were times, sweet periods of simplicity. Looking at the happy joke shop made her morn those times.

“Yeah… Fred says it’s good for business, but… it’s kind of sad at the same time.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, looking over at George as he looked forlornly upon the boarded up windows. “It was you guys’ favorite place.”

“That it was… Ah well,” he said, lightening considerably, “on to bigger and better. Maybe Fred and I’ll take the place up, hu? How’d you like that?” He seemed very pleased by the idea, and Kim couldn’t deny it would be fitting if they did. Maybe if they had a location here she would have an easier time getting Fred to visit her, too.

“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” she agreed. “I am glad things at the shop are going so well.” There was silence between them for a moment. “So… I guess you’ve got to go? Busy with the negotiations and what not.”

“I’m in no rush to head back,” George said, and smiled when Kim’s expression eased. “Fred can handle all that.”

Kim smiled widely, glad to have the company. The longer she was distracted from Fred’s absence, the longer she could postpone the inevitable crushing disappointment. So she and George made their way to the Three Broomsticks to get a drink, trading stories about the school year and about the joke shop’s wild success. It didn’t feel like long before Kim had almost finished her butterbeer and was warm and bubbly.

“I’ve really missed you,” she sighed, coming down from a bout of boisterous laughter.

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, smile becoming warm, fond even. When she’d said it she’d meant she missed _the twins._ But now that she was taking in the sight of George’s happy, warm features with all their care and softness, she realized she’d missed _him_. Not just _them,_ but him personally. She missed both of them of course, but in a slightly different way. They were different people after all, so it was only natural. And she was equally close with George as she was with Fred, just differently.

“Tell me truthfully, do you think Fred gives a rat’s ass about me?” The question came out before she could really evaluate whether or not it was a good idea. A beat after the words left her tongue she thought it probably wasn’t.

He thought for a moment, smile fading. “Yeah, I think he does. Actually, I _know_ he does.” He said it like the realization, or just admitting it out loud, cost him something. “He’s just got a stupid way of showing it.”

Kim nodded, supposing she should take some solace in this, though she hardly felt it. “Thanks for coming, George,” she said, making him meet her gaze. “It means a lot. I know you didn’t have to, you didn’t have to cover for Fred, but you—”

“I didn’t do it for Fred,” he said abruptly. His eyes. They were so intentful. They were trying to tell her something, she was sure of it. But before she could decide what it was he looked down to the butterbeer in his hands, sloshing the remaining contents.

“Well… if I can’t see Fred, at least I’ve got you,” she said, smirking and kicking him playfully under the table. He winced a little and laughed, batting her foot away.

“ _He was nicking Sirius’s stuff!”_ Kim’s attention was abruptly drawn to the entrance to the Three Broomsticks by an angry yet familiar voice. Harry stood there, looking at Ron and Hermione, fuming. Hermione looked nervous and said something pleadingly under her breath.

“What’s going on?” George wondered aloud.

“I don’t know…”

Hermione hurried to the bar and ordered the group drinks as Harry and Ron moved to sit down. He was clearly angry about something. As Hermione sat back down across from Harry, sliding him a butterbeer, his voice floated over the din of the pub, audible, but just barely.

“Can’t the Order control Mundungus?” he demanded, whispering but not quite low enough. “Can’t they at least stop him stealing everything that’s not fixed down—”

“Come on,” Kim said to George, having heard enough. She strolled the short distance over to the trio’s table, still having yet to be spotted by them.

“Harry, I’d be annoyed too—” Hermione was saying, but Kim interrupted in a hiss.

“Think you should keep it down?” she said, sliding into the seat beside Harry, forcing him to scoot over. George stood at the end of the table with his thumb hooked in his belt loop.

“Oh…” Harry said upon identifying who had slid into the seat beside him.

“We could hear you across the room, mate,” George said calmly.

Harry looked nervously around the room for other listening ears. Thankfully Kim felt she’d stopped him before he’d said anything truly revealing.

“What were you on about anyway?” she asked. He just scowled and turned his eyes to his drink.

“Mundungus stole some things from Sirius’s house,” Hermione whispered very low, steeling a sorry glance at Harry.

“Oh… that bastard.”

“Well, I’m going to Dumbledore with it,” Harry said hotly, though he was beginning to cool. “He’s the only one who scares Mundungus.”

“Good idea,” whispered Hermione, pleased that he was calming. “Ron, what are you staring at?” she said, a bit of a snap in her tone.

“Nothing,” said Ron, hastily looking away from the bar. Kim turned her head to see that Madam Rosmerta who sometimes tended the bar wasn’t there at the moment.

“I expect ‘nothing’s’ in the back getting more firewhisky,” Hermione said waspishly. Kim raised a brow at the exchange, realizing immediately Hermione’s jealousy.

Ron ignored her, taking a long sip of his drink and then turning his eyes to Kim and his brother.

“What are you doing here anyway? Where’s Fred?”

His name still felt like salt in Kim’s wounds.

“Couldn’t make it,” George said simply, much to Kim’s gratitude.

“What’re you doing here, then?”

“Checking that you haven’t turned completely into a baboon’s ass,” George retorted. “Seems I’m too late, I’m afraid.”

Kim laughed at Ron’s disgruntlement. “Well,” she said once she’d calmed, “sorry to hear all that, Harry. I’ll see you later?”

Harry just nodded as Kim slid from the table.

“Ray of sunshine, that group,” George remarked.

Kim shrugged. “Sometimes. Can’t blame him for being angry, though. Didn’t you deal with Mundungus?”

“Not wantingly,” George said as they slid back into their own booth. “But he had the goods that we needed, so…” He shrugged.

Their quite was intermediately broken apart by small talk about more of the usual from then on. Harry, Ron, and Hermione left soon after Kim had left their table, but she had George continued their conversation long past the time when most students had cleared out of the Three Broomsticks. Finally it was growing dark, and Hogwarts dinner would be soon. Kim hated the idea of leaving George’s company. She hadn’t quite realized the throbbing in her chest, longing for her best friends’ company until she’d gotten it back. Now leaving again was going to prove twice as difficult.

“I guess I better go,” she sighed, her heart picking up pace in her chest. She hated goodbyes. She never knew quite what to say.

“Yeah, Fred’ll be done soon, or at least I _hope_.”

“You’ll tell him how pissed I am, won’t you?” she said, casually but with an edge.

“I’ll tell him,” he said, raising his brows.

“Good.” The two of them stood and meandered out the door of the pub and into the cutting, frozen wind.

“Thanks again, George. For coming to see me when you didn’t have to.”

“What does that mean, exactly? ‘When you didn’t have to’?”

Kim was momentarily stumped by this question. “Well, I just mean that you didn’t _have_ to come see me. So the fact that you did means a lot.”

“Fred doesn’t _have_ to come see you either, obviously… he should want to.”

“Like you,” she said jokingly, but then she realized what she was saying with a slight widening of her eyes. She really shouldn’t say things like that, should she?

“I guess…” he said, one brow raising a bit dangerously. With his features like that he almost looked like Fred, but with one key difference. He wouldn’t exactly look her in the eye when he did it. Instead he bashfully kicked at a stray bit of nothing on the ground. Kim couldn’t help her smile.

“Well… anyway, write soon, okay? Even if Fred won’t… especially if Fred won’t,” she added, realizing with dread how possible that reality was.

“He will,” he said, obviously trying to bat away her worries as he pulled her in for a goodbye hug. He held her there against his chest, arms holding her tightly. His warmth was very welcome against the cold and the sensation reminded her of something. Wooly gloves encasing her fingers, still warm from someone else’s skin. Not Fred’s but George’s…

“ _We_ will,” George corrected. Kim drew in a deep breath before releasing him. He smelled exactly like Fred. She supposed it was oddly one of the only things she couldn’t tell apart between them.

“See you later,” she said as they released one another and she backed away, raising a hand in one finial goodbye.

“Later,” he said and waved as well before they both turned and headed their separate ways. A distant snap told her that he had apparated away and was gone. She made the rest of the way back to the castle, having to walk since the carriages had already taken their last run some time ago. She fought against the cold by burrowing into her coat and fought against the miserable thoughts of Fred by remembering George’s warm smile and his willingness to simply be by her side for no more complex a reason than her company and companionship. The thought might’ve helped keep her warm, too.


	5. Honey and Revenge, That’s What Little Girls Are Made Of

Chapter 5

Honey and Revenge, That’s What Little Girls Are Made Of

Kim received an extremely apologetic letter from Fred as well as flowers so vibrant and over the top she was almost embarrassed for her friends to see them. The bright blue lilies twirled by themselves in the vase, and the white daisies tittered and fluttered like a breeze had tickled them. She rolled her eyes at the letter, though the extravagant show _did_ help a little, she couldn’t help but wonder if this would be life with him. Constant disappointment followed by showy displays of his empty regret. Was he actually sorry enough not to do it again, or was he just trying to get back on her good side?

Soon after Hogsmeade, she was called to the Department of Mysteries. She was surprised it had taken them so long to send her a letter. Usually they got hold of her very soon after the semester began. But her nerves about going were evidently unfounded. Save a very brisk speech about her transgression and her breach of Mr. Branderbon’s trust, she remained unpunished by them. Her access to the department was heavily supervise and restricted now, as she’d expected. The trip was all business, in with the visions, and then out with her to return to Hogwarts. But that was leagues better than the time served in Azkaban that her transgressions could have earned her, so she remained thankful.

Kim was also informed soon after Hogsmeade of a calamitous happening that she’d completely missed. A Gryffindor girl, Katie Bell, had been bewitched to bring a necklace into Hogwarts. Upon touching the necklace she was nearly killed. The magic was dark and the event foreboding, for certain, but nothing else could be known about it. Harry was, of course, convinced that Malfoy had something to do with the attack, but his suspicions were mostly grounded in his hatred for the boy, which Kim admittedly shared. She hoped it was Malfoy who’d done it, like she hoped she’d get the chance to pummel him with every spell she knew before her time at Hogwarts was done.

That next weekend Kim and Hermione sat together in a corner hallway that was particularly good for practicing spells due to its spacious nature. Hermione was helping Kim get the hang of some of the new spells they were learning in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her assistance was proving invaluable. Harry was a good teacher and had helped her a lot in the past, but Hermione was a compendium of all the positions and wand movements and pronunciations for every spell Kim could ever wish to know. Harry was equally good at spells, but he succeeded more by feeling, which made him admittedly not as good of a teacher as Hermione, who could recite the exact way a spell should be cast and correct any minute mistakes Kim made.

“Slughorn’s Christmas party is bound to be a good time,” Hermione mentioned quite randomly. They were just sitting from their practice, taking a break.

“Yeah, sure,” Kim agreed, though she hadn’t really thought about it much.

Hermione got a look like she was both nervous and pleased with herself at the same time, and deciding how to say something.

“I expect Harry will be there, since he can’t possibly avoid Slughorn’s invite this time… and I invited Ron to come with me…”

Kim looked at her meaningfully. The manor of care Hermione had taken to mention this to Kim told her there was more than what lie on the surface. “Did you now,” she said, sounding impressed.

Hermione gave a soft laugh. “Yes, well… I figured he’d want to be there, and he wasn’t invited by Slughorn of course, so…”

“So you decided to take it upon yourself to take him as your date,” Kim said facetiously. “You saint, Hermione, I can only imagine how hard it is for you.” They both chuckled good-naturedly.

“Well,” Hermione said, clearing her throat, “I wouldn’t quite say he’s my _date…_ ”

“But you’d like him to be.”

She cleared her throat again. “You know how I’ve always… felt for him…”

“Oh yeah, I know. I just thought you were still in the business of pretending you could care less about him. Not that you were doing a convincing job at that.”

“Yes, well… exactly my point.” She sighed heavily. “I’m probably a fool. I allow myself to believe sometimes that he might actually have feelings for me in return. But then he does something assish that vanishes the thought, almost without fail.”

“I don’t know, Hermione… I wouldn’t be so hasty to call yourself a fool just yet.”

Hermione looked at her like she sincerely wanted to believe her. “You don’t think?”

Kim shrugged, making a face that conveyed _you never know_. They were quite for a moment after that, Kim fiddling with the chain of her neckless.

“Oh… I’m sorry, Kim.”

Kim looked up, trying to ascertain the meaning of Hermione’s apology, but she couldn’t see one.

“You must’ve been thinking about Fred,” she explained.

Kim looked down at the chain in her hand, and the teardrop pendant attached to it. She didn’t know if he’d been there before, but as she gazed into the drop, Fred’s form appeared. She released the necklace hastily.

“Oh, nah,” Kim said, shrugging like it was of no concern to her. “I would’ve had to bring Clemon as my date whether he was here or not.” She made an amused face. “She’s been harassing me to get her close to Slughorn since he invited me to his dinner. She’s dying to make his list, which I’m sure she will once he talks to her.”

“Right, well… still. You must miss him?”

Kim really didn’t want to talk about Fred but she supposed she didn’t have a choice now. “I do,” she allowed and paused to think some more. “I don’t know… I do miss him, but he’s just… I don’t know…”

“It must’ve hurt when he didn’t show up at Hogsmeade. I know you acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but… I can’t imagine you weren’t at least a little bothered by it. If _George_ could make the time…”

“Yeah, I know,” Kim said bleakly. These were thoughts that had been haunting the back of her mind for some time now. Hearing them aloud gave them an unsettling new credence.

“But that’s always been the difference between them, I guess,” Kim continued in a resigned manner. She had already accepted that she would not be able to come to a satisfying answer to these concerns. Only time would smooth them over, or so she hopped. “George has always cared the most, and Fred has always… _acted._ Fred does. That’s his strong suit, he sees what he wants… and he takes it,” she finished with a sigh.

“There _is_ certainly something to be said for that…” Hermione said, drawn away into her own thoughts afterword. They didn’t bring up their boy troubles again, rather continued their practice and made purposeful conversation about other things.

Kim had noticed in days prior to Hermione’s mention of her invite to Ron, that the two had been acting slightly different. A bit nicer to one another, just _slightly_ flirtatious, but not enough so that Harry or anyone else would really notice. But in the following days Ron suddenly started being pig headed for no apparent reason.

“That’s nice, Hermione,” he said one day at lunch, interrupting her explanation of a _Daily Prophet_ article quite rudely. Hermione stopped dead in the middle of her explanation and crumpled a bit in her seat, crestfallen. Her hurt gaze wondered to meet Kim’s bewildered and irritated expression. If it weren’t for the fact that Hermione had initiated an advancement between her and Ron, Kim certainly wouldn’t stand for how he was treating her. Now that their relationship had shifted slightly away from ‘just friends’ in Kim’s mind, it felt like intruding if she were to chastise him for being rude now. Still, she wondered how much of it she could witness before she couldn’t hold her tongue.

When the day of the first Quidditch match arrived, the whole school was aflutter with team spirit, as usual. Kim sat between Luna and Hermione, cheering on the Gryffindor team. Clemon had even resigned to sit on the other side of Luna and clap along with Gryffindor’s success mildly. As they settled in and the game began, however, Kim saw that Hermione of all people was looking oddly displeased by the early Gryffindor success.

“What’s the matter?” Kim asked, leaning toward Hermione’s ear so she would hear her over the cheering crowd. She _should_ be pleased. Ron, who had been performing dismally at practice for the past week was doing leagues better than anyone expected, including himself. On top of it, Malfoy and another Slytherin player were out sick for the game.

“I just… ugh, I can’t believe him,” Hermione muttered exasperatedly, seeming like she wanted to tell Kim more but was torn about it.

“Who? What happened?” she pressed.

Hermione glanced around, but of course everyone was watching the game intently. She leaned close and whispered into Kim’s ear.

“Harry. Remember when he won that Felix Felicis in Slughorn’s class?” Kim did remember vaguely from the first day of school. “He gave some to _Ron_.”

It took Kim a moment to process what that meant before her eyes widened. Her mouth drew into an O shape and she dawned an expression of realization as she drew away to look at Hermione.

“So _that’s_ how he’s… and the Slytherin players.”

Hermione nodded angrily. “I want to be happy for Ron, but-” she clamped her lips together and shook her head.

It was cheating. Kim couldn’t say she was greatly disgruntled by the idea. _Who cares…_ But she was surprised that Harry would stoop to cheating in his own game. She supposed he must really need the win, seeing as how it was his first match as captain.

Thanks to the liquid luck, the match was easily won. Even if it _was_ cheating, it certainly made for a lively game to watch. Afterwards though, Kim followed Hermione to the locker rooms, telling Luna and Clemon that she would see them later.

Once inside, Hermione crossed her arms, looking very displeased at Ron and Harry. Other than the four of them, the locker room was empty.

“I want a word with you, Harry.” She took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t have done it. You heard Slughorn, its illegal.”

“What are you going to do, turn us in?” demanded Ron, much to Hermione’s horror. Kim felt pained watching this whole thing play out. _Can’t Hermione just be happy for the win? Sure, it wasn’t genuine, but is it really a big deal? It’s just a game, and it’s made everyone so happy…_

“What are you talking about?” asked Harry, facing away from them as he hung up his robes.

“You know perfectly well what we’re talking about!” said Hermione shrilly. “You spiked Ron’s juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!”

Kim wished desperately Fred and George were there. She wanted more than anything to crack a joke that would break the tension, but she simply didn’t have the skill. If they were there, all of this would turn into a great laugh, and everyone would leave arm and arm, poking fun at one another and preparing to rejoice in their victory.

“No, I didn’t,” said Harry, turning back to face them all.

“Yes you did, Harry, and that’s why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing and Ron saved everything!”

“I didn’t put it in!” said Harry, grinning broadly. Kim cocked an eyebrow. He drew out a tiny bottle from inside his jacket pocket. It was full of golden potion and the cork was tightly sealed with wax. “I wanted Ron to think I’d done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking.” He then looked at Ron. “You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself.”

Slowly a smile spread on Kim’s face, both surprised and very pleased by what she was hearing. And also a bit impressed at Harry for coming up with it himself.

“There really wasn’t anything in my pumpkin juice?” Ron said, astounded. “But the weather’s good… and Vaisey couldn’t play… I honestly haven’t been given lucky potion?”

Harry shook his head, making Kim’s grin crack into a toothy smile. She clapped Harry on the shoulder as Ron simply stared at him, dumfounded.

“You sly dog,” she congratulated, shaking his shoulder. He looked pleased with himself for only an instant before the expression slid quickly off his face. Kim followed his disbelieving gaze to Ron, who was turning on Hermione, a snide expression dawning his features.

“ _You added Felix Felicis to Ron’s juice this morning, that’s why he saved everything!”_ he shrieked, imitating Hermione unflatteringly. “See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!”

“I never sad you couldn’t! Ron, _you_ thought you’d been given it too!”

But Ron had already strode past and out the door with his broomstick over his shoulder.

“Er…” said Harry into the sudden silence. It was clear he was just as shocked as Kim was, her mouth agape.

“What the hell is his problem?” Kim remarked, stepping away from Harry to move toward Hermione, who was about to burst.

“I don’t know… Shall we go up to the party, Hermione?” he offered feebly.

“You go!” she bellowed, blinking back tears. _Here it comes. Better stick around for cleanup._ “I’m _sick_ of Ron at the moment, I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done…”

With that she stormed from the changing room. Kim sighed sharply and threw Harry an exasperated look. “I’ll go after her. You head on up. Good win, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he said bleakly, and Kim wasn’t sure if it was for the compliment or for offering to take care of Hermione. Regardless, Kim was out of the changing room and jogging to catch up with Hermione who was storming toward the castle.

“Hermione, wait!” Kim called. She didn’t wait. “Hermione,” she said as she finally reached her, tears streaking her face which she tried to hide behind her sleeve. “Would you stop,” Kim insisted, grabbing her by the arm and slowing her gently.

“I- I just can’t do anything _right_ with him!”

“No, Hermione, don’t say that, don’t _think_ that. Ron’s evidently inherited a hot-headedness I know very well… If he’s anything like his brother, he’ll snap out of it eventually, it’ll just take him a bit to pull his giant head from his rectum.”

Just then, at the least of appropriate time, a very pleasing thought occurred to Kim. She’d very much like to be Hermione’s sister. It could one day be possible if Ron would get it together. Though, at the moment, Kim wouldn’t be surprised if Hermione’s everlasting patience finally did run out for him.

“ _How_ can he be upset with me?” she demanded, pacing toward the castle with Kim by her side. “Me! _Who_ has supported him in his quidditch career more than I have? And don’t even get me _started_ on his being prefect, everyone else just made fun of him, but I always tried to encourage him! And now I’m stuck doing _all_ his perfecting duties while he makes a real mockery of his responsibilities!”

“Yeah… but you like it,” Kim said, smiling at her knowingly. This wasn’t at all what Hermione wanted to hear, and Kim was aware of that.

“Clearly, I do not!”

“Uh-hu,” Kim said sarcastically as Hermione rounded on Kim theatrically. “That’s why you’ve put up with it so long. You chastise him angrily about it, and then… you smile. Not to anyone, just to yourself… but _I_ see it.”

Hermione huffed as response.

“You like it, and I understand. If anyone can understand, it’s me,” she added. Hadn’t she fallen for Fred in the exact same way? Sure, Kim was far more lackadaisical about rules than Hermione, but Fred was also far more of a rule breaker than Ron. The net difference between them was probably somewhere about the same.

“Fine,” Hermione finally admitted, turning back toward the castle. They walked leisurely toward it as Hermione pouted. “It’s so terrible, though. Likening him. I _hate_ it, most days.”

“I know. Unfortunately for you, Ron is not only thick headed, he’s also _so_ insecure. He’s just embarrassed, Hermione. Embarrassed that he likes you, embarrassed that he’s not more… more everything.”

“You really think so? I mean I know he’s insecure… but do you really think he’s embarrassed that he _likes me?_ ”

“I think so, yeah. I don’t think he quite knows how to handle himself, and every time he gets close to letting it show that he has feelings for you, the fear that he won’t measure up to your standards drives him away.”

“But he _does_ ,” Hermione said desperately. It was rare for her to talk so openly about her feelings, which meant she must truly be distressed.

“But you’ve got to show _him_ that.”

“Haven’t I done everything I can! Give him one compliment and his head inflates so large he can’t even see me anymore!”

Kim laughed. They were making their way through the empty halls now. Most of the students had returned to their dormitories for celebration or morning. “Why do you think that is,” Kim asked rhetorically once she’d settled from her good chuckle. “I’ll just say this… I’ve never seen Ron more elated and happy with himself then when you give him even the smallest of compliments. Your opinion means the world to him, Hermione. Even if he’s a bit of an ass about it now. I think he’ll come around. Eventually.”

Kim was wrong, however, and she would come to regret lifting Hermione’s spirit’s in this way. At the time it had worked, and Hermione went off to the Gryffindor common room with rekindled hope. Kim would come to learn, however, that at the very same time Kim was reinvesting Hermione’s hope in Ron, he was muddying everything up by making the most supreme ass of himself yet. He kissed Lavander Brown. Of all the shell headed girls he could have chosen, he’d selected _her_ to kiss right in front of Hermione. Kim heard about it all from Harry, since Hermione had refused to say a word. In fact, for the next few days, Hermione refused to say much of anything at all, and for the following month things between Ron and Hermione only grew icier.

* * *

Christmas was coming fast and Kim could not wait. She had long since gotten over being sore with Fred. He had kept true to his work in remaining in contact with her since his transgressions in October. Any remaining anger she had toward him was overshadowed by her excitement in seeing him over holiday.

She’d insisted to all that she was to receive _no_ gifts from anyone. She still had yet to speak a word to her mother since she’d been exiled from her muggle home, though she had written a letter to Danni explaining that she was fine and where she was staying, which she assumed would’ve found its way into her mother’s hands. But she would still not be spending holiday with her, which meant she couldn’t very well ask her for money to spend on all her friends. She’d managed to scrounge some of her funds that she’d been saving to get Fred a goofy bow tie that she thought he’d appreciate, since he dressed in far more suites now that he had reason to. But that was all she’d be able to manage, since she was now flat broke.

For the month leading up to Christmas break, Kim had easily avoided Ron as often as possible. Not only was his constant face-mashing with Lavander stomach turning, his attitude about how much he’d hurt Hermione was doubly so. Kim felt especially betrayed since she had talked him up as something of a knight, comparing him to Fred even, only to have him… act quite similarly to Fred, actually. _No, no, no. Fred_ was _a bit of a lady killer before we started dating, but not anymore! But you can’t deny that his transition wasn’t exactly smooth… come to think of it, it seems like Ron’s got all the awkward nerves of George, and all the big headed assishness of Fred. The worst of both worlds… what does Hermione see in him after all?_

“He’s at perfect liberty to kiss whomever he likes,” insisted Hermione to Kim and Harry as they sat in the library. Madam Pince, the librarian with a stronger addiction to rule following than Hermione, was stalking the shelves nearby so they spoke at a whisper. “I really couldn’t care less.”

Harry didn’t look up at her, but Kim arched a brow. When Hermione caught her gaze she looked away quickly. She could pretend not to care to Harry, but Kim knew far better. She suspected even Harry did as well. They were quite for a moment as Harry pored over his potions book with unusual diligence, Hermione worked on her homework, and Kim read ravenously over texts involving ways to leave a piece of one’s self behind. These books were probably too kid-friendly to contain the type of dark magic she was looking for, but if she ventured into the restricted section Harry and Hermione would start to wonder what she was up to.

“Incidentally,” said Hermione to Harry, “you need to be careful.” He pulled his gaze from the gaggle of girls that were shooting him longing glances from across the library.

“For the last time,” said Harry, his whisper coming out hoarse as he turned his attention back to his text book, “I am not giving back this book, I’ve learned more from the Half-Blood Prince than Snape or Slughorn have taught me in—”

“I’m not talking about your stupid so-called Prince,” said Hermione, giving his book a nasty look as though it had been rude to her. Kim didn’t quite understand her dislike for the thing, except that it went along with her dislike of _anything_ that attempted to slight a rule in any sort of fashion. “I’m talking about earlier. I went into the girls’ bathroom just before I came in here and there were about a dozen girls in there, including that Romilda Vane.”

Harry glanced up in the girl’s direction again absently.

“You know they only like you because they think you’re _the Chosen One_.”

Harry looked at her plainly, but a mischievous smile crept onto the corners of his mouth. “But… I _am_ the chosen one.”

Hermione’s features changed to a scowl so fast it was comical. She reached forward in a flash and batted him in the head with her rolled up copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

“Right. Sorry.”

“It’s serious Harry,” Hermione continued over Kim’s snickering. “They were trying to decide how to slip you a love potion,” she explained, lowering her voice even farther so the words came out sounding rather dark. “They’re all hoping they’re going to get you to take them to Slughorn’s party, and they all seem to have bought Fred an George’s love potions, which I’m afraid to say probably work—”

“Why didn’t you confiscate them, then?” demanded Harry.

“You can’t expect me to go around lording my position over others at _every possible_ moment. I’d get a reputation, people would avoid me,” she reasoned. Harry and Kim snorted for reasons Hermione apparently couldn’t fathom. The two of them exchanged knowing looks, Harry shaking his head.

“Extraordinary, that your mania for upholding rules has abandoned you at this crucial juncture,” he remarked, scowling at her, though he was still smiling crookedly. Kim snickered again, which made Hermion’s frown deepen.

“They didn’t have the potions with them in the bathroom anyway!” she said scornfully. “They were just discussing tactics. As I doubt whether even the _Half-Blood Prince_ ,” she shot the book another nasty look, “could dream up an antidote for a dozen different love potions at once, I’d just invite someone to go with you, that’ll stop all the others thinking they’ve still got a chance. It’s tomorrow night, they’re getting desperate.”

“There isn’t anyone I want to invite,” mumbled Harry as he looked off in thought.

“Well, just be careful what you drink, because Romilda Vane looked like she meant business,” said Hermione grimly, bending her nose back down to her work and continuing to scratch away with her quill. Kim was about to go back to her work as well when Harry got a frown suddenly.

“Hang on a moment,” he said slowly. “I thought Filch had banned anything bought at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes?”

“And when has anyone ever paid attention to what Filch as banned?” asked Hermione, not looking up.

“But I thought all the owls were being searched. So how come these girls are able to bring love potions into school?”

“You think Fred and George hadn’t thought of that,” Kim said with half lowered lids and pursed lips. She found some of the products aimed at women to be almost insultingly stupid, but it made the boys money so she supposed she couldn’t complain much. That money had fed her all summer and had bought her the school books she’d needed, so truly she couldn’t complain at all. “They disguise the bottles as perfumes and cough potions. It’s part of their Owl Order Service.”

Harry tilted his head to the side, seeming half way impressed. “But the point is, Filch is being fooled, isn’t he?” he continued, fervor growing. “These girls are getting stuff into the school disguised as something else! Why couldn’t Malfoy have brought the necklace into the school—”

“Oh, Harry… not that again…” said Hermione exasperatedly.

“Come on, why not?”

“Doesn’t that disprove your Malfoy theory?” Kim asked. “If it was Malfoy, and he _could_ get the necklace into the school himself, why use another student to do it for him?”

Harry looked briefly stumped by this.

“See? I don’t think it was him, as much as I wish it was.”

“Well…” said Hermione, and then bit her lower lip. She looked between the two of them like she was fighting against a primal urge to say something factual because it would go against her better judgment. Her need to share her intellectual discovery won out. “Not exactly. Secrecy Sensors detect jinxes, curses, and concealment charms. They’re used to find Dark Magic and Dark objects. They’d have picked up a powerful curse, like the one on that necklace, within seconds. But something that’s just been put in the wrong bottle wouldn’t register- and anyway, love potions aren’t Dark or dangerous—”

“Easy for you to say,” muttered Harry, shooting a wary look across the library to Romilda Vane.

“—so it would be down to Filch to realize it wasn’t a cough potion, and he’s not a very good wizard, I doubt he can tell one potion from another.”

The three of them chewed on this thought for a while, but as the library was closing they would have to table the discussion for another time. The next day Kim was walking down the hall with Luna between classes. She was just telling her about the course load for Care of Magical Creatures at the N.E.W.T level, which Luna was soaking up tentatively. They turned into the girl’s bathroom and Kim’s explanations were suddenly cut off by the sound of a choking sob coming from one of the stalls. Kim looked at Luna who was also frowning, and who did not hesitate to call out gently, “Hello? Are you all right?”

There was a responding sniffle but nothing else. Kim wondered if it wasn’t Moaning Myrtle, but then _she_ would most likely not try to hide her sobs when someone approached.

“Is everything okay in there?” Luna said quietly to the stall that was sealed shut, clearly containing the distraught girl.

“Fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Hermione?” Kim asked, recognizing the shaky voice at once.

There was a sigh followed by a mournful, “Yes.”

“What’s the matter? Don’t tell me it’s Ron again?”

“Of _course_ it is. When will I _learn_?” she cried.

“Hey, come out of there. It’s not your fault.”

“What’s Ronald done?” Luna asked as Hermione opened the stall and covered her face with her hands.

Kim made a sound of sympathy, and put her arms around Hermione’s shoulders, pulling her into a supportive embrace.

“What he’s _always_ done! Been a complete jerk to me!”

 “Well, he has always been quite good at that,” Kim said, trying to make light of the situation. She released Hermione who sniffled and wiped her face in a feverish attempt to remove all evidence of her tears.

“Come on, we better get on or you’ll be late,” Kim said, taking a few tentative steps towards the door as Hermione continued to wipe her face.

“It’s alright, Hermione,” Luna said, patting her shoulder comfortingly as she angled her for the door. “No matter what happens with Ron, at least you still have your friends, and your wits.”

It was an odd thing to say, but it seemed to cheer Hermione up, if only marginally. Kim held the door open for Luna and Hermione. As they exited the bathroom footsteps approached hurriedly.

“Oh, hello, Harry,” said Luna, making Kim turn to see him stop before them. “Did you know one of your eyebrows is bright yellow?” She wasn’t wrong. One of his eyebrows was the color of a banana.

“Hi, Luna. Hermione, you left your stuff…” He held out her books.

“Oh, yes,” Hermione croaked, taking her things and turning away quickly to hide her face. “Thank you, Harry. Well, I’d better get going…”

And with that she was dashing off before Kim could object, eyes still welling with fresh tears. Kim sighed heavily and looked at Harry and Luna with half lower lids.

“I’ll go after her,” she said obligatorily, seeming to find herself saying this a lot recently. She left Harry and Luna to dash down the hallway after her.

“Hermione,” she said, almost reprovingly. “Look, just slow down for a second. Come in here.” She pulled the hunched over Hermione into an empty classroom a few paces down the hall.

“I know, I know,” she said, sniffling hard. “I’ve got to get myself together. I just- I just… can’t _take_ seeing him so over-happy! When I _know_ \- and maybe I’m being presumptuous, but I _know_ I’d be better for Ron than Lavender ever could be!”

“No, you’re not being presumptuous. You’re so good to Ron, you’re _better_ then he deserves,” Kim cooed. Not that any of it was untrue, but her motive was mostly to get Hermione in functioning order before she really was late to class.

“If only _he_ could see that! I’ll bet-” she sniffled again and collected herself more fully, much to Kim’s thankfulness. “I’ll bet, if he realized that I was gone, no longer available to be his _backup_ , then he would realize just what he’d missed out on. Just like last time! With Krum!”

“Completely! You know what, your best bet is to just forget about Ron. Move on! And once you do, he’ll almost certainly realize his mistake. And if he doesn’t, who cares! You’ll have moved on already!”

“Yes… move on…”

“Yeah,” Kim encroached, but she was frowning at the way Hermione was holding her chin and had a bent brow, like she was churning up an idea. A scheme…

“I know what I need to do,” she said coolly, like she had just had the most beautiful vengeance within her own mind.

“What?... What do you need to do?”

“I need to ask someone else to the party.”

“Okay…”

“And then I need to make sure that Ron hears about it!”

“Okay…” The idea was sounding less and less like a good one. Certainly it would get the jealousy going, but was more of that really a good idea in this pot of overheated emotions and rashness?

“Kim,” she said suddenly, desperately, turning on Kim with bright eyes. “Will you help me?”

“Uh…” _How can I say no?_ “Sure, yeah.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Hermione said, mouth curling into a pleased-with-herself grin. “I’ll get my date in order right away, that’s really not a problem for me… And then I’ll need you to bring it up. I’ll walk you into it, don’t worry. And you’ll know when I’m doing it, it’ll be obvious, and Ron’ll be nearby. Just go along with it… can you do that?”

“Uh, yeah. No problem, but… are you sure this is going to make you feel better?”

“Oh, yes.” And before Kim could say another word she was gathering herself up in a typical Hermione fashion and heading for the door. “Thanks Kim. I needed this. I’ll see you later.”

Kim said nothing as Hermione swung from the room. “Uh-hu, no problem,” she said to the empty room. _What have I gotten myself into now?_

The next day Kim sat across from Hermione at dinner. Harry and Ron sat an awkwardly large space away from them, and it wasn’t long before Lavender had squeezed herself between Ron and Harry, making Harry scoot down closer to Kim.

“So, looking forward to Slughorn’s part tonight?” she said loudly. They were easily in earshot of Ron, so Kim wondered if this was supposed to be her cue.

“Uh, yeah…” Hermione looked at her a little expectantly. “You?” She had no idea if this was what Hermione wanted her to say.

“Oh, yes,” said Hermione animatedly. Apparently Kim had said right. “I’m meeting up with Cormac at eight and we’re—”

A terrible sucking noise signified Ron pulling away from having his face eaten to gape, along with Kim and Harry, at Hermione as she spoke.

“-we’re going up to the party together.” She pretended expertly that she hadn’t said a single thing out of place.

“Cormac?” Kim said, unable to keep the disbelief from her voice.

“That’s right,” said Hermione sweetly. “The one who _almost_ became Gryffindor Keeper.”

“Uh… wow… so are you two… a thing?”

“Oh—yes! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, silly me,” she said with a very uncharacteristic giggle.

“Well, color me surprised,” she said, though she was beginning to come down from the shock. This was obviously Hermione’s plot to make Ron jalousie, which from what Kim could tell from stolen glances was working. Kim had agreed to go along with this, to _help_ , and now that she caught glance of Ron’s pitiful features and remembered how terrible he’d been for the past month, she couldn’t help but enjoy it a little.

“I guess it’s fitting though,” Kim said, smiling wickedly as a thought occurred to her. “You tend to go for quidditch types. Krum, now McLaggen.”

“I like _really good_ quidditch players,” Hermione corrected her, her smile even more devilish than Kim’s. _Hermione, you’re going to kill the poor boy,_ Kim thought with evil delight. “Well, I’ll see you there Kim… Got to get ready for the party.”

“See you then,” Kim smiled as Hermione left with an extra bounce in her step.

Lavender began to whisper immediately with Parvati across the table as Ron and Harry stared blankly at nothing. Harry slowly turned to Kim by his side.

“So… how low is too low… for girls to get revenge, I mean,” he said in a very quiet whisper.

Kim turned a high browed look on him. “Be glad you’re not on the receiving end, Harry… You should tend to that wound soon,” she said, looking past Harry briefly to Ron. “It’s going to be a deep one.” She flicked her brows and then got up herself and flounced away. Perhaps it wasn’t her revenge, but Ron _did_ deserve it, and she was always glad to help a friend.


	6. Interrupted Christmas

Chapter 6

Interrupted Christmas

“A little dark for a Christmas party, don’t you think?” said Clemon as she came down from the dormitories and approached Kim in the common room. Kim looked down at herself. She was wearing the same black dress her mother had bought for her to wear to the Yule Ball. While that had also been around Christmas time, she supposed there was quite a difference between a ball and the event they were headed to now.

She put her hands on her hips and slid her pointed gaze back up at Clemon. “Do you want to go, or not?”

“Yes, yes! I was only saying,” she said in a high voice.

“I don’t _have_ another dress,” Kim continued to explain, insecurity making its way through her mask of sarcasm.

“You could’ve barrowed one of mine,” reasoned Clemon as they left Raven Claw tower.

“Is it really that bad?”                        

“No, it’s not. I suppose it’s fitting, for you,” she said simply. Kim wasn’t sure what she meant, but she decided to drop it. Too late to do anything about it now.

As they arrived at Slughorn’s office Kim got a glimpse of Hermione with McLaggen on her arm. It looked an awful lot like he had hooked her and she was sort of stuck, trying to casually slip free of his grasp to no avail.

“Oh my goodness,” Clemon said, smile spreading on her face in an awestruck manor. “This is amazing.”

Kim looked around to try and decipher _what_ was amazing. There were many older witches and wizards around that clearly did not belong at Hogwarts. This wasn’t too surprising, since Slughorn always promised his students introductions with famous people to whom he once taught. Kim supposed that was kind of the deal; get connected to important wizards, get important one’s self, owe it all to Slughorn, visit his stupid parties even after they’ve long gone out of style for you because you owe him one. That certainly seemed the shape of it anyway, judging by the dull expression on a nearby gentlemen’s face. He was awfully pale with shockingly dark hair to contrast is pallor, and dark shades shadowing beneath his eyes.

“Is that a Vampire?” Kim said under her breath to Clemon.

“Oh, never mind _that_. It’s Eldred Worple!”

“Who?”

Clemon merely withered at her and then reflated with determination a moment later. “I _must_ talk to him,” she said and marched determinately in his direction.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Kim muttered to no one, because Clemon was already well off and gone.

Kim wandered toward the snack table, trying to remain unnoticed by anyone, which was easy because out of everyone here, she was probably one of the least important. She was just enjoying a pastry, quite happy to not talk to anyone if it meant she got the tray to herself, when she heard a high voice.

“Oh, _Kim!_ ”

She had to turn to identify who the voice belonged to because it was unrecognizable. Hermione was hurrying toward her with something manic in her footsteps and a smile that was _far_ too wide to make since on her face. She put her arms around Kim in a forceful hug.

“I’m _so glad_ to see you,” again speaking far too emphatically. “I was hoping I’d run into you.” She let go of Kim and gave her a flash of her eyes while they were still very close to one another. Kim glanced behind her and saw that Cormac was following just behind Hermione, and everything in his demeanor and the way his eyes swooped up Hermione’s form _again_ implied that he’d been laying it on thick. If that was the case, Hermione’s desperate pleadings could only mean one thing.

“Hey, McLaggen,” Kim said abruptly, snapping his eyes from Hermione’s backside to Kim’s face. “Fuck off for a bit, would you? I need to talk to Hermione- _alone_.”

He screwed up his face at her crassness and seemed disarmed by it enough to actually do as he was told without another word. He wandered away, looking put off.

“Oh thank goodness,” Hermione huffed, like she was breathing easy for the first time that night. “He won’t leave me alone… He’s… such a _dog._ Ugh… How did you _do_ that, I’ve been trying to lose him all night.”

“You saw, I literally just told him to buzz off. You should try it,” Kim said with a chuckle in her words. Hermione made a sound like she wanted to agree but was unsure.

“Hermione! _Hermione!”_ Came a voice squirming its way through the crowd.

“Harry! There you are. Hi, Luna!” Hermione said to Luna who drifted along in Harry’s wake.

“Oh, hey Luna. Having fun?” Kim said, nodding and finishing her pastry by popping it in her mouth and sucking on a finger with frosting on it.

“Yes, I truly am. It’s delightful to be here, to meet all these _interesting_ people.” She sounded genuinely excited, to which Kim smiled.

“What’s happened to you?” Harry asked Hermione, eyeing her slightly frazzled hair and the disheartened expression she wore.

“Oh, I’ve just escaped- I mean, I’ve just left Cormac,” she said. “Under the mistletoe,” she added in explanation. Kim noticed some of her lipstick was a bit smudged. Did Cormac manage to land one on her? Perhaps more than _one._  Kim snorted at the thought.

“Serves you right for coming with him,” he said.

“I thought he’d annoy Ron most,” said Hermione dispassionately. “I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole— _”_

“ _You considered Smith?”_ said Harry, revolted.

“Wish you’d picked him,” Kim said matter-of-factly. “Could’ve just decked him instead of asking him to leave.”

“You would do that for me?” Hermione said, briefly distracted from her argument.

“I’d do it for _me._ I hate that little shit.”

“Well, I’m starting to wish I’d chosen him too. McLaggen makes Grawp look a gentleman. Let’s go this way, we’ll be able to see him coming, he’s so tall…”

Hermione pulled the four of them away from the snack table, much to Kim’s disappointment, and moved to the other side of the room. They passed by the table laid out with flagons of mead, which Kim helped herself to along with Harry. She wondered how much of this she would have to drink before this fiasco really started to be funny.

And then, too late, she turned to see that the new corner they had selected as their safe haven already contained one guest; Professor Trelawney.

“Hello,” said Luna politely to her. Kim grimaced. She hadn’t talked to Trelawney since the previous year when she’d been her student, and had consistently defied her assignments and requests, _and_ rubbed it in her face at every occasion possible that she was a better Seer than her.

“Good evening, my dear,” responded Trelawney, focusing on Luna with some difficulty. There was the harsh smell of alcohol coming off her lips as she breathed heavily. “I haven’t seen you in my classes lately… neither of you.” Her eyes drifted to Kim and even Harry and Hermione. Kim wondered if she realized that Harry hated her subject and Hermione had quite years ago.

“No, I’ve got Firenze this year,” said Luna conversationally.

“Oh, of course,” said Professor Trelawney with an angry drunken titter. “Or Dobbin, as I prefer to think of him. You would have thought, would you not, that now I am returned to the school Professor Dumbledore might have got rid of the horse?”

Kim’s eyes peeled open wide and round at this, but Trelawney seemed not to notice.

“But no…we share classes!”

“So you think that simply because you got your job back, Firenze should be fired?” Kim drew out menacingly. Trelawney caught herself mid sway and turned her bobble eyes to Kim. “Firenze sacrificed a lot, more than _you’ve_ ever done, for his craft, and to teach us students. He’s a fine _man._ You would do well not to speak so poorly of a colleague at a work party. It’s unprofessional.”

Trelawney seemed utterly taken aback by Kim’s curtness, and babbled much like a child who’d just been caught in a lie. Kim turned purposefully away from Trelawney who was careening toward Luna. She didn’t bother to listen to what she said next, and instead faced Harry and Hermione who were speaking hurriedly to one another.

“Quidditch!” said Hermione angrily. “Is that all boys care about? Cormac hasn’t asked me one single question about myself, no, I’ve just been treated to ‘A Hundred Great Saves Made by Cormac McLaggen’ nonstop ever since—oh no, here he comes!” And just like that she disappeared, dashing between two guffawing witches and vanishing.

“Done _talking with Hermione_ I see,” McLaggen said, squinting slightly at Kim. “Know where she’s gone off to?”

Harry opened his mouth but Kim cut him off. “The bathroom,” she blurted out. She then leaned an inch closer to McLaggen for effect. “She’s got a nasty stomach ache. She’ll be trapped on the shitter all night, I’d reckon.”

McLaggen reeled back, making an ugly face of revulsion and nearly gagging. “Disgusting. Ugh!” he griped as he turned and left, shaking his head.

“Well that was nice of you,” Harry said flatly.

“Yep. Now that my work is done; if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with that pastry dish.” Kim left Harry then to reclaim her duties of clearing away all the delicious food before other takers had a chance to snatch it up first. She spent the night like that, eating and hopping between friends and professors. By the time the night was over she was a little fuzzy from mead and in a very good mood, especially when she returned to her bed and realized anew that Christmas, and Fred, was just around the corner.

* * *

“Maybe we should owl Verity again, make sure everything’s in order for th— _”_

“No,” Kim interrupted Fred, glaring at him from where she sat beside him on one of the Weasley’s couches. “If you don’t stop worrying about that stupid shop— _”_

Both the twins erupted into theatrical gasps, making Kim squeeze her eyes shut in frustration and then open them again.

“Fine,” she said curtly. “I didn’t mean _stupid_ shop, but if you don’t stop worrying about it,” Kim said, yelling over Fred’s objections, “you’re going to have a miserable Christmas holiday. _And_ you’re going to ruin _mine.”_

“It’s our busiest time of year!”

“Your shop hasn’t even been _open_ a year, you don’t _know_ your busiest time.”

“She’s got a point, you know,” George agreed, jutting a thumb at Kim from where he lay lazily across an arm chair on the other side of the coffee table from Fred and Kim.

“It’s _bound_ to be our busiest time of year, everyone wants to buy things for Christmas gifts.”

“Regardless, the shop will be _fine,”_ Kim argued. “It’s bad enough that you’re making Verity work so late into holiday, let alone sending her owls every other day. Leave the poor girl alone for god’s sake!”

“Fine,” Fred moaned, slouching into his seat. “But we need to make some other form of entertainment for ourselves or I’m going to go mad with boredom.”

Kim wasn’t bored at all, and she was a little slighted that Fred didn’t find her company, which he’d supposedly missed for the past three and a half months of their separation, entertaining enough to hold his attention.

This was the first time Kim had ever been to the Burrow, the Weasley’s home, though she had already been well acquainted with all of them when they were staying at Sirius’s house to help the Order. Still, seeing them all in their natural habitat shed light on things she hadn’t expected. For one, the entire house had that familiar smell of warm places and wool, and creaky floorboards. While the twins had a tangy smell added along with the notes of warmth, this place overwhelmingly made her think of them. And since it was decorated with the funniest odds and ends cluttering every corner, she never ran out of things to look at.

“I know,” Fred said, sitting erect out of his slouch. “We should go to the village. Pay that little brunette a visit.” The way Fred was wiggling his eyebrows at George made Kim frown.

“What little brunette?” she asked.

George just made a face and rolled his eyes without looking at either of them.

“Georgie over there needs to get his head back in the game, if you know what I mean.” He wagged his eyebrows at Kim now, whose face only screwed up farther. “What? I’ve got to look out for my brother. And it’s been… what, a year since you’ve had a good lay.”

“Belt up, Fred!” George complained, scowling at him. “Where I put my John Thomas is none of your damn business.”

Fred laughed, but Kim was feeling a bit embarrassed. She didn’t know why, but talking about George and girls felt _odd._ But wasn’t it strange that she’d never noticed George with a girl before? Judging from what Ginny thought of her brothers, as well as their reputation from before Kim knew them, George was the one more likely to have a girlfriend. And yet Kim couldn’t think of a single time when George had ever even _talked_ about a girl, really. It made her feel a little sad for him. Certainly he deserved to be happy in a relationship too, especially since that seemed to be what he preferred over Fred’s previous mode of operation; sex, then on to the next.

“Who is this girl, George?” Kim encouraged, trying to be supportive, though it felt unnatural for some reason. _I guess I’m just protective over him and didn’t realize it until now. Suppose it’s natural. He is my best friend, and my boyfriend’s brother._

“She’s a muggle,” George said flatly. “So it’s not like it’d be anything real.”

“So what?” said Fred in a high voice and shrugged.

“Who says it can’t be anything real?” Kim said. “Wizards marry muggles all the time…”

“Yeah… but, I don’ know. Not interested in her that much anyway, to tell the truth.”

“Come on,” Fred said, standing and pulling Kim up with him. “This is getting sad. I know you’ve got it in you, I’ve seen you flirting with her a few summers ago. She loved those card tricks, remember?” he said with a devilish smile.

George looked like he wanted to ignore it, but it was Fred’s smile, after all. Contagious to all, his brother no acceptation. He smirked along with Fred and gazed off at nothing dreamily.

“Yeah, that’s true…” he chuckled. “And she does have nice skin…”

“Oh yeah, real nice… _skin_ ,” Fred mocked cupping the air before his chest as if he had invisible, very large, breasts.

“Stop it,” Kim laughed, batting at him playfully.

“Alright, fine,” said George. “Let’s go. She’s probably not even in town.” George stood up and slouched around the sofa.

“I’ll bet she is. She was a year younger than us, remember, so she’d still be in muggle school I think.”

Kim followed the twins into the hall, but they stopped short by the kitchen as Fred heard his name.

“…passing over Fred’s left buttock— _”_

“I beg your pardon?” Fred interrupted Harry talking to Ron as the two of them peeled potatoes. Kim followed him into the kitchen with George by her side.

“Aaah, George,” Fred said, “look at this. They’re using knives and everything. Bless them.”

“I’ll be seventeen in two and a bit months’ time,” said Ron grumpily, “and then I’ll be able to do it by magic!”

“But meanwhile,” said George, slouching into a chair by the kitchen table and putting his feet up on it, “we can enjoy watching you demonstrate the correct use of a—whoops-a-daisy!”

“You made me do that!” said Ron angrily, sucking his cut thumb. Kim snickered as she sunk into a seat beside George. Fred leaned against a counter, popping a cookie into his mouth.

“You wait, when I’m seventeen— _”_

“I’m sure you’ll dazzle us all with hitherto unsuspected magical skills,” said Fred through his mouth full of cookie.

“And speaking of hitherto unsuspected skills, Ronald,” said George, “what’s this we hear about you and a young lady called Lavender Brown?”

Ron shot a glair at Kim, who shrugged unapologetically for telling his love life to Fred and George. It wasn’t as if he was secretive about it at school, quite the opposite and disgustingly so.

“Mind your own business,” he said, turning back to the potatoes.

“What a snappy retort,” said Fred. “I really don’t know how you think of them. No, what we wanted to know was… how did it happen?”

“What d’you mean?”

“Did she have an accident or something?”

“What?”

“Well, how did she sustain such extensive brain damage?”

Kim burst into laughter, not so much because the joke was funny in of itself, but because she herself had always found Lavender to be an insufferable airhead.

“Careful, now!” Fred said.

Mrs. Weasley entered the room just in time to see Ron throw the sprout knife at Fred, who had turned it into a paper airplane with one lazy flick of his wand.

_“Ron!”_ she said furiously. “Don’t you ever let me see you throwing knives again!”

“I won’t,” Ron grumbled.

“Fred, George, I’m sorry, dears, but Remus is arriving tonight, so Bill will have to squeeze in with you two.”

“No problem,” said George.

“Then, as Charlie isn’t coming home, that just leaves Harry and Ron in the attic, and if Fleur shares with Ginny— _”_

“That’ll make Ginny’s Christmas,” muttered Fred.

“—everyone should be comfortable. Well, they’ll have a bed anyway,” said Mrs. Weasley, sounding slighting harassed.

“You’d free one up if you’d let Kim and I share,” Fred said matter-of-factly as he took another cookie. Kim wished he wouldn’t push it. She already was a guest in his mother’s home, and whatever rules she had about them sleeping in separate rooms wasn’t a big deal to her. Mrs. Weasley merely pursed her lips and gave the faintest of eye roles, evidently more than immune to Fred’s antics.

“Percy definitely not showing his face, then?” George said, changing the subject to Kim’s relief.

“No,” Mrs. Weasley said as she turned away. “He’s busy, I expect, at the Ministry.”

“Or he’s the world’s biggest prat,” said Fred as Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen. “One of the two. Well, let’s get going, then, George.”

“What are you three up to?” asked Ron. “Can’t you help us with these sprouts? You could just use your wand and then we’ll be free too!”

“No, I don’t think we can do that,” said Fred seriously. “It’s very character-building stuff, learning to peel sprouts without magic makes you appreciate how difficult it is for Muggles and Squibs—”

“And if you want people to help you, Ron,” added George, throwing the paper airplane at him, “I wouldn’t chuck knives at them. Just a little hint. We’re off to the village, there’s a very pretty girl working in the paper shop who thinks my card tricks are something marvelous… almost like real magic…”

“Gits,” said Ron darkly as the three of them left the house. Kim wasn’t sure why, but hearing George talk that way about this muggle girl made her stomach uneasy. _She’s just some muggle girl,_ Kim told herself. _George is only talking big to get at Ron, he already said he doesn’t really care for her…_ But why should Kim care if he did? Shouldn’t she be happy for him if he found someone he liked?

The three of them went to town and George went off to flirt with the girl at the paper shop and Fred and Kim walked down the snowy, quant streets decorated festively. This was a welcome distraction that had her forgetting about her troubles with George and focusing only on Fred, specifically how warm his kisses were against the cold open air.

The rest of the holiday season at the Burrow was full of goodnight nose nuzzles, the smell of Mrs. Weasley’s breakfast awaking her in the morning, snowball fights, and hot chocolate to warm back up from the cold. It was a more perfect Christmas than Kim could ever have asked for.

On Christmas Eve Fred, George, Kim, Harry, and Ron had been charged with the task of gathering carrots from the garden to be prepared for Christmas dinner. It seemed like the five of them were far more than necessary to get the job done, but Kim suspected Mrs. Weasley knew that and had assigned them all for hope of getting them out of the house. The Burrow was not a small place, but it certainly felt that way with so many people crammed within, and Fred and George tended to be rather noisy and take up a lot of space, which there was ample of—outside.

“Aren’t you going to magic them out of the ground?” Ron said, looking at the garden that was frosted over with a few inches of snow.

“What did we say about building character, Ronald,” Fred chastised, putting his hands on his hips.

“I don’t see you making any moves to _build character,”_ Kim teased as she moved into the garden and started to feel around with her foot.

“Well, that’s because we’ve already got great character,” Fred said loftily.

“Can’t very well see them, anyway,” George said, following in Kim’s lead and poking around in the snow with his feet to try and find the carrots sprouting from the ground.

“Found one,” said Harry, and plucked it from the ground with some force. Kim wondered if it was normal for carrots to grow so large in this season, but she didn’t know enough about carrots to decide if it was magic or just Mrs. Weasley’s green thumb responsible.

“Ah-ha,” said Fred, bending down to grab a carrot he’d just discovered. “Ow! What the-” Out from the snow sprouted a potato. Only it had legs and arms, and had clearly been latched onto Fred’s finger a moment ago by a small row of nasty little teeth. It started to run away, immediately realizing it had picked a fight with a formidable foe.

“Damn gnomes!” he swore, drawing his wand in a furry and flicking it. A blast of light hit the gnome and it flipped, unconscious into the air and plopped to the ground like a deformed spud. Ron giggled throatily at the sight of it.

“Ugly things…” Kim commented, coming to look at the blobular creature.

“That’s not very nice Kim,” George said with a sly smile. He bent down to the unconscious gnome and propped it upright. “Here he’s just had a terrible day, been awoken in a fright and blasted on its arse by a- well, a red haired demon of sorts,” George chuckled, looking over his shoulder at Fred who merely smiled sideways and crossed his arms in a theatrical show of devilish charm. “And here you are calling the poor bloke ugly. I rather think you owe him an apology.” He held up the gnome and shook it a bit in Kim’s face making her laugh nervously and back away, not wanting to be the gnomes next victim.

“Oh come on,” Kim complained through laughter as George continued to attack her with the gnome. “Put it down.”

“You don’t think he’s princess material?” George asked, looking at its gnarled face. It was uglier than a potato, really, with nasty looking warts and a misshapen head.

“I can see it,” Fred agreed, coming to stand beside George and looking at the gnome prospectively. “In fact, I think it’s rather… angelic, in a spud-like way.”

“Bet Mum would go mental if we dressed it up as the Christmas angel,” George laughed, and the look on Fred’s face, that eager look as if he’d just spotted something in the distance that he truly wanted.

“Here we go,” Kim muttered as Fred’s smile grew.

“George, we owe it to this poor little runt to give it a chance at being it’s most beautiful self,” he snickered.

“Make its day a bit better, I’d suspect,” George chuckled in agreement.

“Well, I hope you three are enjoying yourselves,” grumbled Ron as he yanked another carrot from the ground. He and Harry had managed to gather a decent number by now and the job was probably almost done.

“How much money you willing to wager that we can put this on top of the tree without Mum noticing?”

“Without transforming it?” Ron asked, interest peeked.

“ _Without_ transforming it,” Fred agreed challengingly.

“You’ve got to be batty,” Ron said, squinting at the gnome as if trying to envision it atop a tree. Kim had to admit she wasn’t seeing it either.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Harry warned.

“One Galleon,” Ron said.

“We don’t bat an eye for one Galleon, little brother,” said George.

“Two Galleons, and that’s all I have.”

“Pfft, fine. But only because we like to humiliate you,” said Fred. “You’ve got a deal. Come on George, Kim.” And with that he led the way back to the house, Ron griping in the background about not getting any help with the carrots. Fred smuggled the gnome up to his room and be damned if the three of them didn’t manage to make that gnome angel worthy. It was an _ugly_ angel, but an angel none the less. It was mostly the twins doing, painting its dirt colored body a sparkly gold, stuffing it into a tutu made from an overly frilly doily, and gluing make shift wings to its back. Kim merely instructed _more pink,_ and _you missed that wart._ But in the end, Mrs. Weasley somehow didn’t notice the hideous thing when the twins stuck it up on the top of the tree to glower down at them all.

“I’m not paying until _after_ Christmas,” said Ron, glairing up at the angel.

“Fine, but you’d better not give it away or deals off,” George warned, and then they got quite about it because Mrs. Weasley was bustling about the house preparing for dinner.

Christmas day came and it was time for presents. Fred got Kim perfume, and Mrs. Weasley knitted her tall woolly socks and a matching scarf. Mrs. Weasley had gotten nice gifts for Fred and George, a new hat and a dainty necklace, which Kim thought was really sweet of them to give their mother. Kim had also gotten a thoughtful gift from George, to whom she yelled at for a few minutes before opening her gift that she’d told him _no to get her!_ But she couldn’t be angry any longer after opening it, because it was floo powder, relatively inexpensive and to most wizards, mundane.

“It’s so you can talk to Fred face to face,” he explained, shooting Fred a glance to which Kim could’ve sworn he looked momentarily guilty. “You can call our fire place from any fireplace in Hogwarts, just remember, it _is_ monitored by the Ministry, so…”

“We’ll keep it clean, don’t worry George,” Fred mocked. After she thanked George profusely she moved on to what she’d gotten by owl. Her mother had actually sent her a Christmas card, the kind you buy from the grocery store, and some money via Aunt Brit, who had also enclosed a letter about how Kim should really try to keep in touch with her mother. _Why the hell would I when she kicked me out?_ If her mother thought a few muggle bucks and a glittery Santa wishing her Merry Christmas were going to make up for being on her own at 16, she was mistaken.

But other than that unfortunate news, there was only one other surprise, on Christmas day. It was Christmas feast around lunchtime and Kim was just poking fun at Ginny for how loudly she snores at night when Mrs. Weasley shouted suddenly.

“Arthur!” She rose from her chair with a loud creek of the wooden legs against the floorboards, her hand pressed against her heart as her eyes bore out of the kitchen window, wide and quivering. “Arthur—it’s Percy!”

“ _What?_ ” Mr. Weasley looked around, along with everybody else at the table. Ginny even stood up for a better look out the window. Kim twisted her neck to see, and there, sure enough, was the glinty-eyed glasses, bright against the winter sun, bobbing atop the head of Percy Weasley. But he wasn’t alone.

“Arthur, he’s- he’s with the Minister!”

Beside Percy was a man that Kim didn’t recognize. He had a slight limp and a mane of wild graying tawny hair. His bushy eyebrows seemed to attempt to reach into his hairline and join it. Before Kim could even grow an opinion on the current situation, the back door opened and Percy entered the kitchen. There was a long painful silence. Kim felt Fred tense by her side, his body ridged.

Then Percy said, rather stiffly, “Merry Christmas, Mother.”

“Oh, _Percy!_ ” said Mrs. Weasley, and she threw herself into his arms.

The Minister paused in the doorway, leaning on his walking stick and smiling as he observed this affecting scene.

“You must forgive this intrusion,” he said, when Mrs. Weasley looked around at him, beaming and wiping her eyes. “Percy and I were in the vicinity- working, you know, and he couldn’t really resist dropping in and seeing you all.”

This felt rather like something Percy should’ve said himself. But then, as Kim’s quizzical gaze shifted to the tall wavy haired young man, she thought that it didn’t look like this was quite his idea at all. In fact, in regard to the rest of the family other than the dewy eyed Mrs. Weasley, Percy looked as much like he disliked being there as they did.

“Please, come in, sit down, Minister!” fluttered Mrs. Weasley, straightening her hat. “Have a little perkey, or some tooding… I mean—”

“No, no, my dear Molly,” said the Minister. “I don’t want to intrude, wouldn’t be here at all if Percy hadn’t wanted to see you so badly…”

Something about this exchange felt oddly familiar to Kim. “Has the Minister ever been here before?” Kim murmured low into Fred’s hear. “Has he met your mother, I mean?”

Fred shook his head, frowning like he didn’t quite understand why she was asking, and then turned back to watch.

“Oh, Perce!” Mrs. Weasley had cried over Kim’s whispers, and was now reaching up to kiss him.

“…We’ve only looked in for five minutes,” said the Minister, “so I’ll have a stroll around the yard while you catch up with Percy.”

“Oh, but Mi—” Molly began, but was cut short.

“No, no, I assure you I don’t want to butt in!” All of this was very, _very_ odd. Perhaps Percy had wanted to come in and visit his mother, but then why did the Minister need to come along if it was only for five minutes and he hadn’t even been _introduced_ to Mrs. Weasley? And why was he acting so familiar with her? And why on earth was he now going to leave again to stroll around the garden of all things?

The Minister cleared his throat, hedging toward the door and surveying the table oddly. “Well, if anybody cared to show me your charming garden…” _And I thought this couldn’t get any stranger, I thought he said he didn’t want to impose!_ “Ah, that young man’s finished, why dons’t he take a stroll with me?”

Kim’s eyes wondered down the table to see who the Minister was looking at, and for a moment it couldn’t register. That must’ve been because she had never, in all her time of knowing him, heard Harry called by anything other than his name. Everyone knew his face, after all. The Minister was certainly no acceptation.

The atmosphere of the table became frigid suddenly, as everyone watched Harry for a split second, minds wrapping around what was really going on. _The Minister came inside for this purpose, regardless of whether or not Percy wanted to be here, though it seems unlikely now that this was at all his idea. More likely the Minister wanted an excuse to come here, wants to talk with Harry about something, something that he can’t say in front of everyone else, some message or purpose that he’s gone through great length to deliver._

“Yeah, all right,” Harry said, much to Kim’s astonishment. _Does he not realize it’s a trap?_ Kim panicked internally, and evidently had the identical thought as Lupin who half rose from his chair at the same time she did.

“I’ll come too,” Kim began to say, but Harry shook his head as if he simply didn’t want to trouble her.

“It’s fine,” he insisted, putting his hand on her shoulder as he sidled past and pressing her gently back in her seat. She gaped at Lupin and Mr. Weasley. “Fine,” he reiterated to them as he reached the Minister.

“Wonderful!” he said, letting Harry pass through the door and into the snow. And out of Kim’s sights. “We’ll just take a turn around the garden, and then Percy and…” His voice was lost as he shut the door behind him.

Kim’s eyes, full of panic, danced from Mr. Weasley to Lupin in desperate hopes that one of them would do _something_. Harry was out there with a wizard whom obviously had ulterior motives, and whom was almost certainly a hundred times more skilled in magic than Harry. What could happen out there was only limited by ones imagination, and Kim had quite an active one.

“I really think I ought to go for a walk,” Kim said shakily, and she stood, ignoring Fred’s _what are you doing,_ hiss. “I just, you know… my stomachs so full a walk sound nice about now—”

“I think you should…” came Percy’s very firm voice which startled Kim because she had almost forgotten about his presence. She turned her frenzied eyes on him, now standing just before her, and it seemed to melt his vibrato substantially. “…should stay,” he finished in a wobbly tone.

“Oh really?” Kim said, Percy’s true motives completely clear to her now. Mrs. Weasley was frowning at him and looking between him and Kim desperately. “And why is that? ‘S it a crime to go for a walk these days?”

“N-no, of course not—”

“Then I’ll just—”

“But you see, you really can’t,” he insisted, and moved before the door.

“Kim, it’s all right,” Lupin tried to assure her in his gentle tone, but Kim wasn’t just worried about Harry anymore. She was alight with anger at Percy. He hadn’t come here to say hello to his loving mother, his mother who was perfect in every way and who cared so deeply about her children, who would _never_ kick one of her own from the house regardless of what they’d done. And he’d taken advantage of her nature. He’d come here to exploit her hospitality to seem _important_ to the Minister of Magic. And finally, he’d put Harry at risk.

“Get- out- of my- way,” Kim said, her voice very low and threatening. Her head was tilted down so that her eyes peered up at him beneath lowered brows.

“I-I really can’t let you—”

“What’s really going on here, Percy,” Kim demanded as Lupin once again tried to inform her that, _it’s all right._

“He just wants a word, i-it’s nothing to be concerned over—”

“So you admit it,” came Ginny from behind Kim, along with the sound of her own chair screeching back against the floor boards. “You only came here for that… Not to see any of us. Your _family._ ”

“W-well, erm…” he stammered and averted his shifty eyes, ashamed.

“You really will stoop to any low,” Fred said with disgust in his tone, shaking his head.

“Fred,” Mrs. Weasley gasped, her features terrified at the unfolding events. Kim thought for a moment that she should stop, before things got out of hand. But then, all she had was this traitor’s word that Harry wasn’t in danger. Out there, with no one able to see, he could use the imperious curse on Harry and they would be none the wiser. He could force him to tell all Dumbledore’s and the Order’s secrets!

“Get out of my way,” Kim muttered as she moved for the door again, but once more Percy hurried to shift himself so she couldn’t snake by.

“Now, just wait a moment, _please._ You must _listen_ to me.”

“Nobody here owes you a ruddy thing,” Fred said, standing as well. There were many chairs moving now, though Kim didn’t turn to see to whom they belonged.

“Kim, trust _me_ ,” Lupin said under his breath, now standing on the other side of Percy. “If there were something going on with Harry, I would know. He’s safe, and the moment he’s not—”

“You’ve got some nerve, showing your face around here with anything short of pleading for forgiveness,” spat Ginny, the anger in her voice only rising.

“Yes,” Percy said, ignoring Ginny and looking from Lupin to Kim, “ _thank you. Now_ will you calm that irate head of yours—”

“Excuse me?” Kim shrieked.

“Come on Kim, he’s not worth it.” This was George’s voice, gentle and cradling as it slid into her ear. He put his arm around her shoulder, probably to hold her back, but it felt surprisingly comforting.

“Yeah,” she said, feeling herself cooling. She gathered the last of her venom to issue a final threat. “But so help me, if _anything_ happens to Harry, you’ll find yourself—”

“Do not threaten me,” Percy interrupted, his own rage bounding and turning his forehead red as he drew his wand and pointed it at Kim’s face. Kim pulled back, wide eyed. She hadn’t intended her threat to be met with such a response, but before she could do anything other than think she’d rather not be hexed on Christmas, George had flung himself past Kim and slammed his full weight into Percy, knocking him back and pinning him to the door with his forearm pressed against his chest.

“Percy, George!” Mrs. Weasly shrieked as Percy squirmed to no avail against George’s grasp.

“ _Don’t_ you point a wand at her,” he growled low in his throat, face contorted with such rage the likes of which Kim had never seen. It transformed him into a different person, a person Kim would most certainly be afraid of if it weren’t her he was defending. She was so shocked she didn’t feel Fred rushing past her to George’s side.

“Come on, Georgie,” Fred said calmingly into George’s ear as he squeezed his arms in either of his hands and pulled him gently off Percy. His touch seemed to have the same effect on George that George’s had had on Kim moments ago, though his features weren’t near to fully calm.

“You really are something, Perc,” Fred said darkly over George’s shoulder, scowling at him. “You know you deserve having- mashed parsnip tossed in your face for showing up here like this. On _Christmas,”_ he said, bobbing his head at the first item of food that his eyes fell on that would be adequate to throw. “Actually you deserve a lot worse,” he added very low under his breath, “but Mum’s here, so count yourself lucky.”

“Well,” said Percy briskly as he impulsively straitened his collar over and over. “It’s been lovely seeing you, Mother.” His words were so sharp that it sounded as though he truly meant that it’d been the opposite of lovely to see her, to which Mrs. Weasley clenched her jaw, attempting to stop her lower lip from quivering with sadness, eyes growing even more glistening with fresh tears of anguish.

And then there was a great _splat_! Kim startled back as Percy’s face was _covered_ in the greyish yellow substance that was mashed parsnip. She twisted around to see Ginny, hand still poised over the bowl with the same creamy mash covering her fingers that was all over Percy’s face. He gasped a second later and cried out in astonishment and rage. Growling in a high-pitched, whinny fashion, he twisted for the door, wiping the mash off his glasses as he fumbled for the handle. He stormed from the house, waving his wand at his face and sending mashed parsnip into the snow around him as he went.

All that was left to fill the silence was Mrs. Weasley’s sobs.

“It’s all right, dear,” said Mr. Weasley, standing beside her and rubbing her back affectionately. “It’s all right.”

“Sorry, Mum,” Ginny said, sounding deflated, wiping her hand off on a napkin. “But he _did_ deserve that.”

“If you hadn’t done it, I might’ve,” Fred muttered as he sidled past Ginny to return to his seat, clapping her on the shoulder with a sly smile of approval.

“Are you all right?” Kim asked George reflexively, for he was still working to calm his breathing.

“Fine. You?”

“I’m fine… you didn’t have to do that,” she said, embarrassed. She was flattered by George’s immediate response to defend her, perhaps more than she should’ve been. But she was also embarrassed that she had most likely been the cause of this great disturbance, and of Mrs. Weasley’s current sobs.

“Yes I did. He raised a wand at you the lousy git, and I’m not having that,” he said matter-of-factly as he patted Kim on the back and passed her to return to his own seat. Fleur and Bill had already retreated to the other room. Lupin and Mr. Weasley were both trying to calm Mrs. Weasley, and Ron was staring dumbstruck at his sister.

Then the door opened and Harry appeared.

“Harry,” Kim said with relief. Perhaps it was the adrenaline of the moment or simply that her arms were shaking and she needed something stable, but she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed.

“Kim, I’m fine,” he insisted.

“That was so _stupid_ ,” she chastised under her breath, releasing him. “What were you thinking? What if—”

“What? He’d attacked me? I’ve faced worse, Kim,” he said, and Kim’s face went slack for a moment. _Voldemort._ In merely an instant her features had regained their rigidly, however.

“Flashing your badge of honor might work on other people, but not me, Harry. That was reckless, master dueler or no.”

They stared at each other very seriously for a moment, and Kim wondered if there was going to be another fight. But then Harry’s features cracked and he gave a rueful smile.

“Fine,” he said, almost laughing, which of course made all of Kim’s seriousness vanish on sight. She let Harry step farther inside as Lupin approached.

“I see you’ve already had a talking to, so I’ll refrain,” he said, smiling knowingly at Harry and then Kim. She returned the smile a bit bashfully.

“Thanks. And Kim, why did Percy storm out of the house covered in- was that mashed potato?”

“Parsnip, actually,” Kim said.

“Ah.”

“Things got… heated. Ginny threw them.”

“It was _my_ idea,” Fred insisted, leaning back in his chair to see the two of them.

“Yeah, but if it weren’t for me the whole mashed incident wouldn’t’ve happened,” said George. “So _really_ it’s like the _three_ of us gifted dear Percy with the face full.”

Fred and Ginny laughed. Kim rather thought it was truly her fault that it had happened, but she was happy to allow George the credit. _Maybe he knows that,_ she thought as she caught him shooting her a soft, knowing look. It felt like half apology, though she didn’t know for what, and half a promise that he would look out for her. How a mere look could deliver all that Kim wasn’t sure, and for some reason she felt prickles raising up on her arms and neck as she averted her eyes, her cheeks going hot.

 

 


	7. Horcrux

Chapter 7

Horcrux

The Christmas season didn’t last forever, unfortunately. Too soon Fred and George were going back to the shop and Kim was going back to Hogwarts. Most else hadn’t changed, however. Harry was still having meetings with Professor Dumbledore. Kim wasn’t quite sure as of yet what he was trying to show Harry. She knew that Harry didn’t yet know what she did. He didn’t know where Dumbledore was going, which, to be fair, Kim didn’t  _ exactly  _ know either. But she did know he was off trying to figure out what the ring they had gathered over the summer had contained and whether or not it was the resurrection stone. 

Another thing that hadn’t changed was Ron and Hermione. Ron was still in an infatious relationship with Lavander, and Hermione was still ignoring him whenever possible.

Monday afternoon Hermione, Kim, and Harry met up on break and walked lazily in the snowy courtyard. They had been discussing Harry’s most recent success in potions, Hermione chastising him for using the Half-Blood Prince as a guide yet again.

“Besides all that,” Harry said a bit roguishly, “there’s something else I need to tell you both about. I had another meeting with Dumbledore last night…”

“Oh, yes,” said Hermione, “how’d it go?”

“Well… he showed me more of Voldemort’s past, his childhood. He killed his father… Dumbledore gave me a task.”

“A task?” said Hermione.

“To do what?” asked Kim.

“To retrieve a memory from Professor Slughorn. I think that’s why it was so important that we got him to be our professor… Dumbledore wants me to sweeten Slughorn up to get the memory that he won’t give to Dumbledore.”

“What memory?” Kim asked keenly. This seemed like a very important task that almost certainly had to do with the quest to understand the Gaunt ring.

“It’s a memory of when Voldemort was one of Slughorns students… one of his favorites, it would seem. But the memory he gave Dumbledore is tampered with. Seems he didn’t want Dumbledore to know he favored Voldemort, did him favors even.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Hermione reasoned. “How humiliating.”

“Dumbledore can’t think that Slughorn is… sided with Voldemort? Can he?” asked Kim.

“No, no,” Harry said, shaking his head and his layers of black hair. “It’s not that. The memory is important because Voldemort was asking Slughorn about something… Something called a Horcrux?”

Kim’s leg froze up as she tried to find footing in the snow and she almost stumbled. She stood there, wide eyed, as Harry and Hermione continued forward.  _ Horcrux… I’ve read that name… I read about it last year in the Mysterious Libraries. It’s very dark magic. Dark magic that allows a person to attach a piece of their sole to an object, but at a great cost… _

“What’s the matter?” Hermione asked, looking over her shoulder at Kim. Shook from her thoughts she hurried the few paces forward to catch up with them.

“Nothing,” Kim muttered, still distracted.

“Do you know what it is?” Harry asked, but Kim didn’t answer right away. Dumbledore certainly knew, which meant that he hadn’t told Harry for a reason.  _ If Voldemort had made a horcrux that would explain how he had survived… But why wouldn’t Dumbledore want Harry knowing that? _

“I’ve never heard of it,” Hermione said after a moment of Kim not answering.

“You haven’t?” Harry said, almost surprised sounding. Kim smirked. She found it rather ironic that the one instance where she actually knew something that Hermione didn’t was involving something as dark and foreboding as Lord Voldemort himself. 

“It must be really advanced Dark Magic, or why would Voldemort have wanted to know about it? I think it’s going to be difficult to get the information, Harry, you’ll have to be very careful about how you approach Slughorn, think out a strategy…”

“Ron reckons I should just hang back after Potions this afternoon…”

“Oh, well, if  _ Won-Won  _ thinks that, you’d better do it,” she snapped. “After all, when has  _ Won-Won’s  _ judgment ever been faulty?”

Kim snickered as Harry withered at Hermione.

“Hermione, can’t you—”

“ _ No! _ ” she said angrily, and stormed away leaving Kim and Harry alone. 

“Are they ever going to make up?” Harry said bleakly. Kim smiled ruefully at him. She felt bad for not admitting what she knew about horcruxes, but now the moment seemed passed and she didn’t want to undermine whatever Dumbledore was trying to do. What she needed was to speak with him. Immediately. 

“I don’t know,” Kim answered Harry’s question after a pause. “I hope so. I think Ron and Lavender are not long for this world… once they break up things will most likely get smoother.”

“How do you figure? They seem obsessed with each other,” Harry said with a hint of disgust. 

“Exactly,” Kim chuckled. “Fire that burns that hot, burns out fast.”

Harry just frowned at her like he didn’t understand.

“Think about it,” she explained. “Lavender is obsessed with Ron, which makes her gross and clingy. Which was probably really fun for Ron for the first, like, minute. Okay, maybe a few weeks, since Ron is kind of needy when it comes to attention.” She slid her gaze to Harry to check if he was going to try and deny it. He looked partially offended and then embarrassed as he tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows as if to say,  _ I guess I can’t really argue it.  _

“But it’s going to start getting old,” Kim continued. “And he’s going to start getting sick of spending every waking moment with his face attached to hers. That sort of thing is only exciting for  _ so long _ before you need to actually be able to talk to each other. Once that time comes… they’re as good as over. I could be wrong, but… I doubt it,” she said with a laugh. Harry just shook his head.

“Well, I hope your right. For my sake, if not for Ron’s too.” 

Kim agreed and said goodbye to Harry because it was time for them to go separate ways. All day Kim’s thoughts were absorbed in finding Dumbledore to speak to, but when she went to his office and knocked on his door after giving the password to the gargoyle, there was no response. She waited for a long time but he never beckoned. Assuming he was out on one of his ‘errands’ she abandoned hope and returned to the dormitory to do homework and go to sleep. 

Over the next week Harry tried to get the full memory out of Slughorn, Kim tried to meet with Dumbledore, and Hermione tried to find something about horcruxes in the school library, all fruitless. 

“Ugh!” she groaned, snapping a book shut. Kim had just come into the library and sank into a seat across from her and Harry. “I haven’t found one single explanation of what horcruxes do! Not a single one! I’ve been right through the restricted section and even in the most  _ horrible  _ books, where they tell you how to brew the most  _ gruesome  _ potions; nothing! All I could find was this, in the introduction to  _ Magic Most Evil _ , listen: ‘Of the horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction…’ I mean—” she began to complain, but Kim’s sigh of forfeit made her cut short and look over at Kim. She slid her glazed eyes up over the edge of her homework which was propped up on her knees, her feet on the armchair cushion. 

“They’re used to achieve immortality,” Kim said dully. Both Hermione and Harry stared at her blankly, eyes round and unblinking.

“What?” Hermione said.

“Horcruxes,” Kim sighed, setting her feet down on the floor and situating more upright, “the purpose for making one is so when you die… you don’t actually  _ die.” _

“Don’t die…” Harry pondered, frowning at the desk before him.

“Then what does happen when you die?” Hermione asked carefully.

“Then I guess part of you stays behind,” Kim explained. “It’s at a great cost, though. That’s why they’re considered very dark… even for the darkest of witches or wizards.”

“What cost?” Hermione asked.

“Wait, how do you know all this?” Harry said, accusation finally making it into his voice. It seemed Hermione had been so distracted with the prospect of knowledge that she didn’t think to be disgruntled at Kim for not speaking up sooner. Now, however, she looked from Harry back to Kim with a creased brow.

“I read it last year in the Mysterious Libraries. Actually, it was in the Death Chamber that I found that one, if I’m not mistaken. In a book about ways to elude it, specifically.”

“You’ve known this whole time?” Hermione said in a high voice, though she sounded more hurt than angry. 

“Why didn’t you tell us strait away?” Harry accused.

“I’m sorry,” Kim said with a heavy breath. “I wasn’t sure… well, it’s obvious that Dumbledore must know what a horcrux is, so if he didn’t tell you… it must’ve been for a reason.” Kim shrugged and looked at the floor, mind starting to turn over the thoughts that had been running through her head a lot recently. “I was trying to talk to Dumbledore first, but he hasn’t been around… But I’ve been thinking and it seems like he must not be sure. If he was sure that Voldemort made a horcrux, he would’ve just told you. And he wouldn’t need you to get Slughorn’s memory. The fact that he’s asked you to do this puts a lot of importance on it. This memory is what Dumbledore thinks will fully confirm his horcrux theory. Or at least that’s what I suspect.”

There was a pause of silence and then, “ _ Why  _ wouldn’t you just  _ tell  _ me?”

“Look, it doesn’t really matter, does it? You know now. It’s not like it changes anything, you still need to convince Slughorn to give up the memory, and we still don’t know for sure if anything we think is right…or what it’s for,” she added, thought this bit was a lie. Kim did know what it was for, it was to sort out what the ring might be. And if it was true, knowing that they had found and destroyed Voldemort’s horcrux… It opened up all kinds of questions.  _ What happens when one’s horcrux is destroyed? Does he know we destroyed it? Can he feel it? Is he weekend from it? Does that mean that if someone were to kill him today…he would actually die?  _

“Fine,” Harry said broodingly, crossing his arms and leaning against the back of his chair. “But no more secrets, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”  _ Liar Liar Liar.  _ She glanced up at Harry who apparently couldn’t see the guilt in her eyes.  _ You’re just doing what Dumbledore said. If he made it a rule, it must be important.  _

It wasn’t until late January that Kim finally got a response to the letter she had slipped under the door into Dumbledore’s office. 

_ Kim, _

_ If you wish to meet with me still, you may come to my office this evening after dinner, _

_ Fondly, _

_ Dumbledore _

And so Kim raced up the steps to the gargoyle the moment she had swallowed her last bight of pork pie. Breathily she told the gargoyle “Acid Pops,” and then rushed to his door. After knocking and entering, Kim found Dumbledore behind his desk as usual, corking a glass bottle with glistening threads of crystalline blue contained within. 

“Hello Miss Shimmers. I apologize for my absence, though I’m sure you know it was necessary.”

“I do. Professor…” She cleared her throat as she sat down and attempted to gather her thoughts. “I’m here because… you think Voldemort has made a horcrux, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. She knew she was correct. “But you didn’t tell me or Harry because you’re not sure. You need Professor Slughorn’s memory to be sure.”

“Very good, Kim,” he said, sounding pleased that she had uncovered his secret motives. It felt like this was becoming a kind of game between them. Kim would decipher Dumbledore’s action and he would use her ability to do so as a measure of her intelligence and determination. Kim couldn’t say she actually minded the test, and Dumbledore didn’t seem to mind her inquiry into his business either. 

“The ring. That’s what’s led you here, isn’t it? You think it’s a horcrux.”

He nodded, slowly. “I think it’s very possible that it  _ was.  _ As you said, nothing is certain until we get that memory.”

“But you must be fairly sure, or you wouldn’t have asked Harry to get involved.”

“Again, correct,” Dumbledore said amusedly. 

Kim thought over all this for a moment. “I think you’re right,” she said, saying it as abruptly as she came to the conclusion. In her moment of thought her mind had wandered back to the feeling she’d gotten when she stabbed the ring, the foreboding in her stomach as she watched Dumbledore’s hand near it… “The ring felt like Voldemort. I don’t know how else I can describe it… it’s possible I was just feeling dark magic and equating it to how Voldemort’s presence feels. But I’ve been around other dark wizards, Death Eaters… nothing has ever felt like this, except him.”

There was a pause. Dumbledore lowered his head seriously to peer up at Kim over his glasses. “And you’re certain.”

“As certain as these sorts of things can be,” she said with a small shrug. 

“Well… even so, it hardly changes our need for Professor Slughorn’s memory.” 

Kim nodded. They had to be sure before they could go much farther. But certainly they didn’t have to just sit around and wait for Harry to have some success. There had to be something in the mean time…

“What do we do?” she asked. “If it turns out to be true, the ring is a horcrux.”

“I’ve been pondering on that myself. It seems unwise to move forward too hastily without certainty, and yet…”

“Doing nothing is a bad idea too.”

“Precisely. So, let us assume for a moment that we  _ are  _ correct. It comes with good and bad. For starters, with this knowledge we uncover a likely means of destroying Lord Voldemort, possibly before true havoc is visited upon the wizarding world of today.”

“So if you destroy the horcrux…” 

“You can kill the man, yes. Once the horcrux is gone, all that is left is the part of the sole remaining in the body. Once that vessel is destroyed, Voldemort would not be able to return.”

“Well, that’s a good thing then! If we already destroyed the horcrux that means we know Voldemort is week, vulnerable!”

“That is true… but…” He paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully as his blackened fingers thrummed on the table. Kim stared at them with surprising trickles of horror thrilling up her spine. She hadn’t realized how fresh the memory of Dumbledore, writhing on the ground, the sword in her hands, thrust down to the ring, the feeling… Like being sucked under the blackest lake, the feeling was the horror of being trapped with the unknown, of having the unknown seep into your skin, leeching yourself until you were just as unknowable as the darkness. The feeling was exactly the same as the darkness that lurked within Harry.

“What if there’s another,” she dared to say, before she would allow the thought to even fully form in her mind. She looked up at Dumbledore with warning eyes.

“Yes. That is the concern. Had this been the only horcrux, it seems likely Voldemort would have felt its absence. From what I can tell by the information I’ve been able to gather thus far, he’s made no moves to indicate he’s aware of the loss and of his vulnerability. Which suggests either we are wrong, or there are more. More, better hidden horcruxes that he is more readily prepared to defend. That is why Harry and I have been searching through his memories, Kim. The better we can understand the boy, the more likely we can interpret the actions of the man.”

All of this was concerning to Kim, but not nearly as much as her real fear which had been creeping up from her stomach and into her throat, squeezing her windpipe and making her voice come out soft and staggered.

“Harry… Professor, I think Harry is a horcrux.”

Dumbledore stared at her fixedly. This was the first time she had ever seen him truly surprised by her. She expected him to dismiss her instinct as madness. But instead he said, “It’s a fear I’ve entertained as well.”

“You mean you… it’s possible?”

“It is, I’m afraid.”

“H-how? Why? Why would Voldemort make Harry—”

“I don’t believe he would’ve done knowingly.”

“It can be done by accident?” Kim said, her voice still high and a bit breathy with panic and disbelief. 

“Not that I’m aware of… but understanding the magic that makes a horcrux, it seems it may be possible.”

“How do you mean?” Kim asked, sounding hollow. Dumbledore looked resigned as he lifted his wand arm and waved it at the bookshelf across the room. A book, fat and old with a worn cover that need be replaced, floated across the classroom. 

“Secrets of the Darkest Art,” Dumbledore explained as the book touched down lightly onto his desk. “It’s one of the few to contain any information on horcruxes at all… Aside, I would think, from whatever tome you gained the knowledge from,” he added, glancing up at her knowingly as he flipped through the pages. 

“I don’t remember what it was called,” Kim admitted. “It was in the Death Chamber of the Department of Mysteries.”

“I figured as much. I must say Kim, your curious mind and your access to dark materials has made you a very…”

“Dark witch,” Kim said for him, unable to keep some of the edge from her voice.  _ It’s not true. I would never do any of these things and he has to know that! _

“I was going to say knowledgeable,” he said, looking up at her with an unusual smile that Kim didn’t quite understand. Almost as if he were sorry for her… “Don’t fret, Kim. Your healthy fear of the Dark Arts is wise, and your fear of becoming a dark witch, as you said, is what separates you from the young Tom Riddle…”

_ I’m not like him,  _ her mind retorted immediately.  _ But aren’t you? You have the same taste in reading material… No! I only do it for Harry… to keep him alive! _

“As well as your care and great sense of duty toward you friends,” Dumbledore added, smiling kindly now. Kim faltered, feeling relieved by what he said. But then she hardened her features.

“Stop reading my mind, please, Professor,” she said blankly, pursing her lips. His kind smile shifted to what Kim would almost call a mischievous one. 

“My apologies.”

_ Yeah right, liar,  _ she thought and his smile only got more crooked as he turned back to the text.

“Back to matters… You asked how it was possible to make a horcrux by accident. You must understand first that, if there is an attachment between a piece of Voldemort’s sole and Harry, I don’t imagine it’s nearly as stable as one to an object. For starters, living bodies die after time, and in doing so would inevitably destroy the horcrux. And then, according to this text, ‘The only real requirement in making a Horcrux is a desire to do so, and an unfaltering apathy for the consequences of acquisition.”

“The consequences of acquisition? Is that talking about what happens to your sole after its split in two? It’s never whole again, right? You’re never whole.”

“Correct. I believe it’s referring to that, as well as the only other requirement to create a horcrux… you see, Kim, to attach a piece of one’s sole to another object, one must do inexplicable evil, including the murder of an innocent.”

Kim was unsurprised and unfaltering. Voldemort had done countless inexplicable evils, was it really shocking that he had started when he was 16? 

“It’s because of this that I believe it’s  _ possible  _ that Voldemort accidently attached his sole to Harry when he tried to kill him as a baby. He had created at least one Horcrux before this point, most likely more. His sole was most certainly depraved enough to make another without much preparation, and due to this fragmented nature of his sole when the spell rebounded off Harry and destroyed his living body, it’s perhaps possible that a piece of his sole disjointed from the main portion that escaped into obscurity. This disjointed piece of sole sought to attach itself to something substantial enough to sustain it, and found a baby whom had just been marked with dark magic from the source of the sole’s original form. It’s fitting that it would choose Harry really… Fitting,” he said, leaning back and sounding exhausted for a moment, “yet unfortunate.”

“If Harry is one of Voldemort’s horcruxes, then… then he would have to die… in order for Voldemort to die…” Kim collapsed farther against her chair, her limbs feeling disjointed from her control. “The prophecy…”

“Don’t resign just yet, Kim,” Dumbledore said with a gusto that put Kim’s mind back on the honing wheel.  _ Snap out of it.  _ “There may yet be something to be done. I won’t have Harry sacrificing himself unless…” But it didn’t seem likely he was going to finish his sentence.

“Unless there’s no other way…” Kim leaned forward and rubbed her face in her hands. “Jesus… he would do it, too. He would willingly…”

“That is why he cannot know. Yet.”

Kim looked at him then with disbelief and a hint of outrage. “Not tell him? Professor, if we don’t tell him… I mean we can’t keep that from him! He deserves to know!”

“And how will you insure that he doesn’t run off and kill himself unnecessarily?” he said sharply, Kim feeling the full force of his displeasure. Dumbledore was a very intimidating man, when he wanted to be. 

“He wouldn’t… not if there was another way.”

“But we don’t yet know what that way is. It has been my mission to discover what might be done to destroy the horcrux within Harry without his death being necessary. As I suspect…” he shifted and glanced down at his charred fingers, “…will be your mission as well.”

_ Dumbledore is going to die in a year. _ The resurgence of this knowledge made Kim’s eyes go wide. 

“We should work together on it,” Kim said, trying very hard to sound like an adult. “So if it’s not solved by the time… you die, I can continue.”

Dumbledore didn’t flinch or falter. He merely gave Kim a serious nod. “I agree.” The silence that followed dragged out for a long time as Kim tried to process everything she’d just learned and Dumbledore gave her the time to do so.

“So…” she finally said, “you must have some idea.”

“As a matter a fact I do… The Deathly Hallows.”

“The Deathly Hallows…” Kim repeated under her breath, turning the phrase over her tongue as thoughts tumbled through her mind.

“The power of the three combined is unknown. But I have reason to believe… to hope that the power of death himself will be enough to separate two entangled soles without destroying both.”

“So we need all three…”

“We already have two,” Dumbledore said with a sly smile. 

“What?” Kim said, dumfounded.

“The stone on the Gaunt ring was unquestionably the resurrection stone. I’ve confirmed that recently… As for the wand… I acquired that,” he said slowly as he picked up his own wand, “some time ago.”

Kim stared at the wand in Dumbledore’s hand. It was the wand he’d had for as long as Kim had known him, unless there was some disguise over it. It was long and slender with round bulbous forms going all the way up its length. The shape combined with the bone-white and darkly pocked surface gave it the faint resemblance of a many jointed finger bone.

“ _ Your  _ wand?”

Dumbledore nodded and set the wand back on his desk. “Yes. My wand.”

“ _ Your  _ wand is the Elder Wand?” 

Dumbledore made not to repeat himself. 

“You’ve had it all this time,” Kim whispered.

“Now, Kim… it is very important that you understand the secrecy of this information. You are-… well, you are the only one aside from myself who is aware of the Elder Wands location, and its true power.” Kim had been shocked too many times in one sitting to feel anything about this revelation. “I entrust this information to you because of your dedication to seeing the three united, as well as your ability in occlumency. You may not be able to fight off a real attack from Voldemort, but your skills should aid in shielding any unwanted thoughts from his readily accessible view. Your anonymity to Voldemort will also aid you in this. Cling to it.” He bent his head low and raised a brow.

“Y-yes, I will… I won’t let him or anyone else know what I know.”

“I trust that you won’t.”

Again there was silence as Kim digested the news.

“If we have the stone and the wand, that only leaves…”

“The cloak, yes,” said Dumbledore. 

“But it’s just an invisibility cloak. They’re rare but not hard to find if you have to…”

“That is true of  _ ordinary  _ invisibility cloaks, but not so true for the  _ first. _ ”

“The first?”

Dumbledore nodded. “I’ve discovered through rigorous research that the invisibility cloak mention in  _ The Deathly Hallows _ is most likely the first ever created, formed by Death himself, as you know. The rest of the cloaks were made by copying the magic that was imbued in the first, and hence they have come far more common place than a hallow. But only the cloak created by death himself, cut from his cloth, and given to Ignotus Peverell will complete the spell. 

I have spent some time finding what I have so far, what I have just told you. As of late I’ve been wholly preoccupied with the issue of confirming Voldemort’s use of horcruxes, and my attempts to discover where the others might be hidden, how many there might be. That is why I cautiously pass the task of finding the invisibility cloak to you.”

“You want me to-… to  _ find  _ the original invisibility cloak? The last hallow…”

“I do. I suspect your search will begin within texts of old. It may be a long time before you find anything substantial on the matter, but once you do, I can accompany you on any necessary journey to find the cloak.”

“Okay,” Kim said after only a moment, and felt herself wakening from her stupor.  _ Harry’s life is in even more precarious trouble than I’d ever imagined. He’s going to be in this all alone… unless I can find this cloak.  _ “I’ll do it. I’ll find the cloak.”

“Very good. I feel it is repetitive of me, but I must say once more what an honorable service you volunteer for your friend. Harry is blindly unaware of just how lucky he is to be gifted with friends such as you, and the others… though you mustn’t fault him for his naivety. He will come to realize, one day I feel.”

Kim smiled. “I know… he’s just got a lot clouding his mind right now. Besides, I don’t expect recognition, or anything in return. I just can’t… I can’t leave it up to him. It’s too big, I guess. Too much to expect of one person.”

“Very right you are,” he said with a finial nod, and Kim stood because she felt it was time to go. “Inform me as soon as you learn something. Goodnight.” They bid one another goodbye and Kim wandered from his office in a kind of daze that didn’t subside until she’d had a chance to sleep on the whirlwind of information she’d been given.


	8. Drowning

Chapter 8

Drowning

At the first of February apparition classes began. Ron had been spouting for weeks about how he was determined to pass the apparition test on the first try, but Kim was not nearly as confident. It generally took her twice as long to learn basic spells as other students, though she wasn’t sure apparition counted as being a basic spell. She wasn’t sure if that thought should be comforting or concerning. At least she had already experience what apparition felt like, though she kept that fact quiet when she saw the endless bout of questions it had gained Harry. Besides, Kim couldn’t think of a good enough lie to explain how she had felt apparition before, since no one, including Harry, Ron, and Hermione, knew about her and Dumbledore’s venture to the Gaunt House.

Kim filed into the Great Hall along with Harry and Hermione, while Ron was off somewhere with Lavender. The tables were all cleared away and there was a very pale, insubstantial man standing at the front of the room along with all the heads of houses.

“Good morning,” said the man, quieting the hall. “My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry apparition instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition tests in this time—”

“Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!” barked Professor McGonagall, which brought about numerous smirks from the Gryffindors. Kim didn’t bother to let her concentration be broken by Malfoy’s messing around. _Focus on the task. Focus on apparition._

“—by which time, many of you may be ready to take your tests,” Twycross continued, as though there had been no interruption.

“As you may know, it is usually impossible to aparate or disapparate within Hogwarts. The headmaster has lifted this enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so as to enable you to practice. May I emphasize that you will not be able to apparate outside the walls of this Hall, and that you would be unwise to try.

“I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you.” The Great Hall was filled with the shifting of feet against the wooden floor. The Heads of Houses moved among the students to insure there was enough space between them and silenced any chatter that broke out.

“Thank you,” said Twycross. “Now then…” With a wave of his wand wooden hoops appeared on the floor before every student. “The important thing to remember when apparating are the three D’s!” said Twycross. “Destination, Determination, Deliberation!

Step one: Fix your mind firmly upon the desired _destination._ In this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon that destination now.” Kim was already focusing. She relaxed her face, felt a wave of easiness wash over her body. Focusing was actually something she was quite good at.

“Step two,” said Twycross, “focus your _determination_ to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!”

_From here… to there. Just like that,_ she thought, feeling the energy in her body flow in through her breath and emanate to her fingertips, down to her toes.

“Step three,” called Twycross, “and only when I give the command… Turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with _deliberation!_ On my command, now… one… two… _three_!”

The energy in Kim’s body had been building at such a rate that it now burst as she let it flow from her body. There was a tight feeling in her stomach and then a forceful yanking, her feet leaving the ground and then meeting it again in an instant.

_“She did it!”_ hissed someone in the Great Hall, making Kim open her eyes once more and realize that the head of the person in front of her was much closer than it had been before. The girl twisted her head around to see Kim, now standing in her hoop. A wide smile broke across Kim’s face as she looked at the wooden ring around her. She looked up at the other surrounding students who were all gaping at her a bit disgruntled and confused. She caught Hermione’s rather sour gaze as well, which made the victory of being the first in their year to manage apparition even sweeter.

“Well then, _very_ well done,” said Twycross. “Don’t worry everyone, this young lady here is the acceptation, not the rule. All of you, simply adjust your hoops and back to your original positions…”

Kim went back to her original position as well, but now that she knew she could do it, apparating was easy. By the third time Kim had successfully, and singularly, apparated the rest of the class was starting to get frustrated with her as an evidently unfair example. On the fourth try one girl appeared in her hoop missing a leg, it still standing a few feet back. It flopped to the ground lifelessly, making a splattering sound as blood trickled from its torn apart joint. The room gasped and gagged, but it was only an instant before the teachers were upon the girl, putting her back together again.

“Splinching, or the separation of random body parts,” said Wilkie Twycross dispassionately. The girl’s screams were still echoing in between Kim’s ears. “Splinching occurs when the mind is insufficiently _determined._  You must concentrate continuously upon your _destination,_ and move, without haste, but with _deliberation…_ thus.” Twycross demonstrated, disappearing and reappearing at the back of the room. By the sixth time Kim had successfully apparated with still no rival, Twycross said to her, though loud enough for others to hear, “I don’t usually do this sort of thing, however…” he glanced around the classroom at the disgruntled faces… “Perhaps it’s best that you leave early, Miss…?”

“Shimmers,” Kim said shamefully. All the eyes on her were starting to burn.

“Miss Shimmers, yes… It’s quite clear you’ve got the concept so, you may go,” he finished, gesturing to the exit. Kim hurried out of the Great Hall, both triumphant and embarrassed at her success.

That night Kim attempted to reach Fred again. They had used the flu powder that George had given Kim twice already, though the last time they’d talked felt like it hardly counted. It had consisted of the two of them exchanging ‘I love you’s’ followed by Fred apologizing profusely for having to go because of some work related reason or another.

This night she tossed the powder into the fire in her dormitory and watched the flames turn green with optimism. She checked over her shoulder to see that the dormitory was in fact empty and then muttered, “Livingroom fireplace, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Diagon Ally, London.” She stuck her head in the heatless flame and was suddenly peering into the twin’s Livingroom with the brightly pattern throw pillows resting on the tan and green stripped couch before her.

“Hey, Fred!” she called into the empty room. “You there?” The house didn’t stir. “Hello?” There was a rustling from through the wall and George’s door opened. He peered over the couch to see Kim’s smile.

“Hey George. Fred around?”

“Yeah, he’s downstairs in the backroom. I can get him for you.”

“Thanks.”

He left the room, leaving it silent for some time. When he came back he shut the door behind him, and he was alone. Immediately Kim’s heart started to sink. George came to sit on the couch facing her, and judging by his bitter expression, he certainly didn’t have good news.

“He’s working,” he said like it was difficult for him to get out.

“And he can’t… I don’t know, take a break?” she said, failing to keep the edge from her tone.

George looked tired and shrugged, gazing at the carpet before Kim’s hovering face. “He said to tell you he was sorry, but now was not a good time.”

“Not a good time.” The edge in her voice was growing. “Well you tell him to let me know when would be a good time. I’ll just fit it in around _my_ schedule, school be damned!”

At this George looked up at her, pained, head still bowed slightly toward the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Kim said, immediately deflated by his gaze. “I know this has nothing to do with you and you don’t want to be in the middle of it.” She sighed and stretched her neck. Sitting with her head lodged in the fireplace was not the most comfortable position, and now she was to discover that it was fruitless. “It’s just… I really needed to talk to him, you know… There’s just so much going on with school and… and Harry,” she muttered.

“What is it?” George said with concern.

She paused, gathering it all in her mind. There was so much to tell. The both of them knew already about her trip to the Gaunt home. They knew she and Dumbledore were up to something involving the ring, but that was all.

“There’s so much, but… I can’t exactly say here.” George nodded, signifying that he understood the topic of her problems was something that was secret the ministry, and not to be spoken over unsecured networks such as the floo network. “But Harry, as always, is in danger. We don’t know for sure yet about it, and we have _time_ at least, hopefully enough time to do something about it. It’s just… I guess what’s really getting to me is the secrecy. I can’t talk to Harry about it… Which means I can’t talk to Hermione or Ron either… which means I have no one. No one but Fred and- well… you of course.”

She looked up at him bashfully which made a broad grin spread across his face. His head bowed farther to look at his feet, as if embarrassed. As he turned his face up again to meet her gaze he said, “I know I’m nothing special.”

Kim sighed. “Well… lately it seems you’re all I’ve got,” she said with a hit of bitterness, not toward him, but toward Fred for not being there too. George seemed to understand this. “I just don’t see how he can be so busy all the time.”

He cleared his throat in thought. “We’ve been thinking about buying up the Zonko’s location, putting one of our own shops there.”

Kim’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? I mean, I know you mentioned it, but I hadn’t thought it was serious.”

“Yeah, I mean it wasn’t a first but, we decided… So he’s trying to figure how much extra we need to make in order for that to be possible, and _then_ he’s trying to figure how to make that extra income possible…” He shook his head, silky orange hair shaking about his face.

“Well _you’re_ not busy all the time.”

“Yeah, well... it’s not as if he’s _always_ working,” he said, slightly defensively.

“Just when I’m around to talk.”

George faltered, seeming to realize that his efforts to keep his brother out of trouble had been foiled by telling too much of the truth.

Kim sighed again. “Whatever. He just needs to know that if he wants this to work, he’s got to be willing to put in some effort too. I can’t do it all, you know, I’m not in a relationship with myself.”

She stuttered at the end. Had she come dangerously close to saying ‘I’m not in a relationship with _you_ ”? It was true, certainly; she _wasn’t_ in a relationship with George, no more or less than she was in a relationship with herself… But then why did the thought of saying this aloud make her stomach buzz.

She cleared her throat forcefully as if to scrape her insides free of any other possibly dangerous things she might say. “Anyway… Dumbledore gave me a task, so at least there’s something I can do about all this… like I said, it’s just the secrecy that’s got me feeling… alone, I guess.”

Their gazes met and didn’t break as they usually would. “You don’t have to feel alone,” he said softly, words so delicate on his lips that it raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “And you don’t have to worry about Harry or anything else. I know he’s in good hands.”

Kim smiled bitterly. “Dumbledore’s, you mean.” She was thinking of how he was going to be dead before long; another thing she had to keep secret.

“I mean yours.”

Again their gazes caught. She had stayed in the fire place in the hopes that Fred might change his mind and come up, that he might arrive and make her feel like she wasn’t alone and abandoned. She found that sitting there talking with George had been just as good… but that was a bad thing, wasn’t it? Or was it normal, since George was her friend? Shouldn’t Fred be more of a comfort to her, shouldn’t he be there for her more? But Kim didn’t have any control over what Fred did. She didn’t have any control over how it made her feel to be here talking to George instead of him…

“I should probably go—”

“Y-yeah,” George agreed hastily, like he was feeling the same pressure, thinking the same thing. _Dangerous waters. Swim back to shore._ “I’ve got- work, so…”

“Yeah, and I’ve got homework,” Kim agreed, and then softened for a moment. “Thanks. For… listening and talking to me. I know I can be a downer. Maybe that’s why Fred is avoiding me.” She laughed bitterly.

“It’s not you, Kim,” George said firmly, shaking his head in small motions. “It’s not you. And you’re not a downer. Call any time. I’ll be here.”

Her breath caught in her throat. They were still bobbing out in those waters, with waves rolling over their heads and carrying them out farther still. In theory, swimming against the current is a mere matter of determination. In practice… _What if drowning was a sweet relent?_

“Okay,” she said simply, voice tight. “Thanks. Uh, well, goodnight. See you later.”

“Yeah, you too.”

She pulled her head from the fire hastily, her shoulder’s grateful to be out of the stiff position. She stared at the flame as it returned to orange. The image of George’s soft face lingered against her eyelids like she’d been staring at the sun.

_This is a phase,_ she told herself as she pushed off the floor and began preparing for bed. She was no longer alone in the dormitory, which was just as well. She knew none of them would’ve heard her and George’s conversation since it had been on his end. _This is a phase, and soon enough Fred will be over his obsessive work habits. Everyone gets burnt out eventually, including him, and when he does, I’ll be there… But what if it’s not his work that’s really getting in the way? What if it’s something else? What if it’s simply that he doesn’t care enough to try? Now that this takes effort, maybe it’s not worth it to him…_

It was with these haunting thoughts that Kim fell into a restless night’s sleep.

For the next two weeks Kim focused on her search for the invisibility cloak. She tore through books of magical lore, she read everything the library had on the Deathly Hallows. She desperately wished she could ask Hermione for help, her being far better at research in general. But then she would have to explain her reasons for the search, which had to remain a secret, at least for now. In her weeks of searching she was able to discern a few things.

First, Dumbledore was certainly right, or at least what he had said was the popular opinion; the first ever invisibility cloak was made by Death. The rest were mere copies, and none of them were the third and final Hallow. Second, was that the brothers in the story of the Deathly Hallows were believed to be the Peverell brothers. The wand and the stone were lost over time, scattered across the globe to eventually end up there at Hogwarts where they rested now, but the cloak was said to be in Ignotus Peverell’s possession until he died. It was at this point, according to the story, that he passed it to his son. _So the next logical step then would be to track the Peverell family history if I can…_ But Hogwart’s ancestral information about wizarding families was limited, so her search was considerably slowed for the time being.

By the time Valentine’s Day came about, Kim was starting to feel the absence of Fred stronger and stronger. There was another Hogsmeade trip coming up, but it was still a few weeks away. And then there was the worry that he wouldn’t show up when the time finally came.

It was with a warry heart that Kim put her head into the flame and emerged on the other side in Fred and George’s Livingroom. Much to her surprise, and delight, Fred and George were both standing in the kitchen, their heads just visible over the top of the couch.

“But if we add more, we risk a volatile reaction after a few weeks of usage,” George was saying.

“Yes but it we _don’t_ then th—”

“Hey! Fred, over here!” Kim said, overwhelmed by her own excitement. The boys started slightly and their heads twisted in her direction in mirrored motions.

“Kim! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Fred said brightly, coming around the couch and plopping down happily, like it was nothing, like nothing at all had happened.

Kim gave him a warning look. She wouldn’t let his charm get him out of _everything._ “You’d see it a lot more if you’d ever be here when I call,” she said sharply.

Fred made a slightly pained sound as he let air out of his open mouth. “I know, I’m sorry! I’ve just been so busy! With the shop, and oh! We’re considering opening up a—”

“Second shop, I know. George told me.” She got no small amount of satisfaction out of his slight expression of letdown. _You could’ve been the one to tell me, Fred. All you have to do is be here…_ But she didn’t want to press it too hard. He was here now, and that did make things better, no matter if she was still a bit cross with him about before.

“Well, anyway. That’s why we’ve been so busy. I’m really sorry, love, you know I want to see you all the time, I’ve just been so—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Kim said over him, shaking her head but unable to stop the wry smile creeping across her face. “Well, I’m glad you’re here now. I’ve missed you. I figured even you couldn’t skimp out on me today of all days.”

He frowned. When Kim didn’t explain any farther, he twisted his head to look at George still minding his own business in the kitchen, as if his brother could slip him a hint to get him out of impending trouble. A purse started to form on Kim’s lips as he turned back to face her, still bewildered. George was doing quite a good job in the background of acting as if he hadn’t the slightest idea what was going on in his Livingroom.

“Valentine’s Day?” Kim said, jutting her head forward.

Fred’s expression went blank and then a bit wide eyed. “R-right,” he said, drawing it out very dramatically. “Yeah, Valentine’s Day, well… erm…”

“You had no idea,” she said for him.

“I- I…. it’s like I said, Kim, with everything going on here, you know, I just lose track of the days and I guess it must’ve slipped my mind- I mean I knew it was coming up I guess it just came sooner than I realized—”

“It’s fine,” Kim chuckled, amused by his rare befuddlement.

He made another pained breathing sound as he seemed to fully grasp the situation. He placed his hand across his forehead and said, “I didn’t get you anything… Kim, I’m really sorry—”

“Fred,” she interrupted, “no, it’s fine. Look, I don’t care about the gifts, I didn’t get you anything either, I don’t have any money.”

“…But I do, I should’ve gotten you something. Tell you what, I’ll get you something now and—”

“No, don’t, seriously. I don’t want a gift, Fred. I’m just glad I actually get to _see_ you. You know, it’s been a _while._ ”

“I know,” he said, and looked at the floor. Finally he looked like he was getting it.

“You know what, I take it back. Here’s what you can get me; Hogsmead, two weeks, be there.”

He looked up at her. As he understood her request his features got soft. She watched them melt and his eyes get warm in that singular way that only he could. “I love you,” he said softly, making Kim smile.

“I love you too. Just be there, okay?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Good.”

After that the conversation got much lighter. They talked about school and the shop. Kim told Fred that she’d been going to apparition class basically for show because she had already mastered the skill. He was very pleased by this news, and his approval of her warmed Kim even further. It was so good to talk to him that she didn’t realize over an hour had passed by the time she had finally said her goodbye.

Before Hogsmead could actually take place, however, Kim discovered that it had been canceled. She stared at the notice bored in utter shock.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed, a little surprised by the desperation in her voice.

“Oh, you didn’t hear about that?” Clemon said conversationally, clearly not perceiving Kim’s dire perception of the situation. “With that Gryffindor girl, whatever her name is… after her nearly being killed, I suppose this was the only course of action.”

Kim growled and stalked over to an arm chair to throw herself in broodingly. She didn’t care about _that Gryffindor girl,_ Kattie Bell, she didn’t care what had happened to her or anyone else as long as she got to see Fred. She knew this was irrational, but she felt it all the same.

She tried to inform Fred not to bother coming to Hogsmeade, but reached neither of the twins when she called. She’d have to try again later, but there was only a few days until the date they were supposed to meet. And she had other concerns distracting her.

In the search for the cloak she had given up on the library and had turned to an old trusted ally: divination. She hoped to possibly glimpse where her future search for the Peverell family would take her. Perhaps it would give her a hint as to what to do now. But with the recent news that she wouldn’t be seeing Fred any time soon she was having a hard time focusing on anything else.

Drifting through the haze of dark smoke and blackness behind her eyelids, Kim was suddenly sucked into a body, sucked from nothingness and plucked down into existence. Ron was lying in a hospital bed. She was fraught with worry for him, and to think they had been fighting lately, _what if he died?_ But she pushed the thought away. Madam Pomfrey had said he would be alright, he just needed rest.

Kim’s eyes snapped open to be greeted by the magically manufactured forest around her. She was sitting by the small fire in Professor Firenze’s office, smoke trailing wreathes about the forest canopy. She sighed heavily and dipped her forehead into her palms.

“That’s great,” she said bitterly to no one, except perhaps Strix who sat by her side, preening her feathers. She knew she could do nothing to stop the event she had just seen, through Hermionie’s eyes she thought it was. Whatever trouble Ron had laden himself with was set in stone. She tried to think of ways she could help the before and after, as Dumbledore had once told her. Perhaps she should warn him of his fate, so when it happened it was less of a surprise. But wouldn’t that make it all the more frustrating? To know and still to land in the same situation? It certainly was the chief source of Kim’s frustration. It was on days like that in which she considered abandoning divination entirely. But it was _sometimes_ useful. That coupled with the fact it was one of the sole things she was any good at that might actually bring her success in the wizarding world. If there was anything she’d learned from divination so far, it was that wizards, or rather humans in general, were obsessed with the future. She wondered if having the Sight was required to see just how much more important the _present_ was.

* * *

“How can they expect us to have any success with so little to _go_ on,” Ron complained at dinner. It was the Friday before what was supposed to be Hogsmeade day, and she had still yet to get a hold of Fred or George.

“Just _think_ about _being_ where you _wish_ to go,” Harry said, comically mimicking the affected voice of their apparition instructor.

“Exactly!” Ron agreed, grinning. “It’s not as if that helps. We can’t all be protégé.” He pointed a sharp look at Kim. The bitterness in his tone was almost completely lost to Kim, as she was tapping her feet with distracted worry. _To tell or not to tell…_

“What’s the matter with you?” Harry said.

“What? Oh, nothing… what are you guys doing tomorrow?” She tried to make it sound like a conversational question.

They looked at each other with curious frowns, then back at Kim, shrugging.

“Don’t really have any plans,” Harry said. “Why?”

“No reason,” Kim said, sighing. “Just… don’t do anything stupid.”

“Okay?” said Ron. Kim huffed. If she was going to catch Fred or George on the floo network, now was her best hope. She’d been trying to leave dinner for some time now but had been stuck there from her worry and indecision about what to tell Ron.

“Look, I’ve got to go,” she finally said, standing. “Just… Ron… be careful for the next few days, all right?”

Ron’s furrowed-brow look of confusion started to shift into genuine concern. Perhaps even fear. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked in a high voice.

“Nothing just… be _careful.”_ With that she hurried off between the isles, Ron whimpering to Harry audibly behind her.

She made her way quickly to the dormitory and once again tried to reach Fred or George, but once again they weren’t there. She was starting to think they weren’t home. Part of her wondered if they had gone off on some trip together and forgotten to tell her. Perhaps Fred would again forget all about the trip to Hogsmeade and not show up after all. She wondered also if she was allowed to be angry with him, since Hogsmeade was canceled and they wouldn’t be able to see one another anyway.


	9. Poison

Chapter 9

Poison

Kim sat with Hermione in the library on Saturday morning. They often met up there and sat together, chatting and doing homework, which was nice since Kim didn’t see Hermione as much at mealtimes. If Kim was already sitting with Harry and Ron, Hermione wouldn’t sit with her. Kim was starting to wonder if she had been right about all this blowing over when Ron stopped dating Lavender. She was starting to wonder _when_ Ron would stop dating Lavender, perhaps wondering with a hint of impatient anticipation.

“Well, I tried to reach him again this morning. Nothing,” Kim said, continuing their conversation about Fred and his possible appearance at Hosgmeade that day. “Wouldn’t it just be justice if he showed up, expecting to see me and felt stood up when I wasn’t there? Like he did me? Though I guess he’d figure it out pretty quickly, when _no_ Hogwarts students were there.”

“You know Kim, holding a grudge is no way to better a relationship,” Hermione said, peering up at her from over the brim of a book for only a moment.

“You’re one to talk,” Kim said sharply, and then gave her an eyebrow raised look when she glanced up again. “When are you going to stop avoiding Ron?”

“I’m not _avoiding_ him,” Hermione said defensively. “I just… Look, you can’t blame me for not wanting to be around him and Lavender. They’re _disgusting_.”

Kim gave a short hum of agreement. “Almost as bad as Fred and I were at the beginning.” She smirked at Hermione’s momentary struggle, caught as she was being a bit hypocritical.

“No, you and Fred were different. Though, sometimes a bit too… open with where you chose to… well-”

“Make out,” Kim said for her when it appeared she was struggling for the right word.

“Yes. But it’s not merely that which bothers me about _Won-Won_ and Lavender.” Kim snorted, smiling maliciously at Ron’s expense. “You understand what I mean, its like- ugh,” she made a sound of disgust, shaking her head as if to rid herself of the memories. “They’re just so disgusting. Honestly, if that’s the sort of thing that Ron likes, I hope they stay together forever. The dimwitted pair, at least with them together they’ve got one brain collectively.”

Kim snickered some more. As much as she disliked the disunity between her friends, Hermione’s sense of humor increased exponentially with the amount of distain she harbored for Ron.

“I heard he was in rushed to the hospital wing, you know,” said a younger Gryffindor girl who was fingering through the shelf of books behind where Hermione and Kim sat snickering. They both looked back at the girl. “You’re talking about the Weasley boy, right?”

“What do you mean, ‘rushed to the hospital wing’?” Hermione asked, the comedy drained from her voice immediately.

The girl shrugged. “I wasn’t there, just heard it from a friend.” Kim’s heart sank as she turned slowly to look at Hermione. She had gone a bit pale and was staring at nothing until she finally dragged her eyes to meet with Kim’s.

“Let’s hurry,” she said at once, and stood, bolting for the library exit in one motion. She even left her potions homework open on the table for anyone to copy without a care, Kim dashing after her.

“Don’t worry too much Hermione, I’m sure he’s all right,” Kim said reassuringly, and she was sure. That was what her vision had told her anyway. She had to admit the news had still surprised her a little because she had grown attached to her theory that it would be at the next apparition practice that Ron would get hurt, being splinched or something like that. It had made the most sense to Kim, so much so that she had almost completely convinced Ron not to _do_ the next practice.

“How could you possibly be sure?” Hermione asked hurriedly. Kim wasn’t about to tell her how she was sure, knowing it would only gain scrutiny from Hermione. She didn’t quite understand the fickle nature of Divination, and that no matter how hard one tried they couldn’t change the future. Most didn’t.

“Harry! Harry, what’s happened?” Hermione demanded breathlessly as she pelted toward where he stood outside the closed doors to the infirmary.

“Hermione, it’s Ron—”

“I know, what’s the matter with him?” she pleaded as Kim caught up to stand by her side.

“I- I dunno… I think he was _poisoned._ ”

“What?” Kim said, surprised by this news, and then again surprised that she could _be_ surprised by anything anymore.

“We were with Slughorn, Ron and I, and he was giving us both a drink to celebrate Ron’s birthday.”

“I forgot it was his birthday,” Kim said lightly. Both of them glanced at her like she was a bit mad for being so calm.

“Anyway, he started… choking, immediately. I just remembered what I read about bezoar curing most poisons, so I dug one out of the professor’s potions box and stuffed it in Ron’s mouth…”

The silence echoed between them for a moment.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione exclaimed, putting her fingers over her lips and clearly holding back tears. “I’m so sorry I gave you a hard time about that book, if it saved Ron’s life, I- I-”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Harry said darkly. “He didn’t wake up when I gave him the bezoar… Madam Pomfrey says it must’ve been a very strong, fast acting potion. She won’t let us in until she’s done whatever she needs to and he’s rested…” They both starred at the shut door, Harry with his brow deeply furrowed and Hermione with her eyes shining.

“I’m _really_ sure he’s going to be all right,” Kim said quietly, leaning forward so her head was hovering between both of theirs. “Like, _really really_ sure.”

“How could you possibly-” Hermione began, but her voice was choked.

“Just trust me,” Kim said, giving them a knowing look and trying to sound soothing.

“Did _you_ poison him?” Hermione said suddenly in a shaken voice, turning on Kim to look at her with wide eyes.

“What? No!” Kim exclaimed, head reeling back as if she’d been punched. “How could you even think that?”

“Well, you’ve been acting odd lately, and you sai—”

“Seriously?” Kim demanded, scowling at them both.

“I didn’t say it,” Harry said, lifting his hands in surrender.

Kim just made a small sound of disgust and turned on her heels. “Got homework,” she muttered as an excuse for leaving, but really she just didn’t want to look at either of them. How could they sit there and suggest that _Kim_ had been the one to poison Ron when all she was trying to do was _help_! It served her right for trying, she should know better by now.

But by that evening the anger at Hermione had faded. She had probably just been confused and her emotions were on high. Kim could understand that after all, only moments before they had been mocking Ron, Hermione declaring that she hoped Ron never became available again, suggesting she never wanted to be with him anyway. The next moment she was hurtling down the hall, ready to trade her sole or whatever else, if it meant Ron’s wellbeing. Kim could understand that too. She had felt that same thing for Fred more than once. _You think you hate them and then suddenly, when you think they might really be gone or in danger, you can’t imagine your life without them_.

So by dinner time Kim returned to the hospital wing which had finally allowed Ron visitors, though he was still asleep when she arrived. Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were gathered around his bedside and all looked to her as she approached.

“Hey,” she muttered to Hermione. As if this sufficed as _sorry_ , Hermione gave her a tiny grimace that looked like she had wanted it to be a smile, but had failed miserably. Kim had hardly noticed the sound of footsteps behind her until she heard a familiar voice say softly.

“Hey, Kim.” She whirled around to see Fred and George approaching Ron’s bedside. Fred put an arm around her waist, but his eyes were on his little brother. “How is he?”

“You’re here,” Kim said in surprise.

“Well, yeah,” George said. “He might have dung for brains, but he’s still our brother.”

It was quiet for a moment, then Fred sighed and said, “So, all in all, not one of Ron’s better birthdays?”

“This isn’t how we imagined handing over our present,” George said grimly, putting down a large wrapped gift on Ron’s bedside. Kim noted that either this wrapping had been George’s doing or Fred had gotten much better at it in the past few months.

“Yeah, when we pictured the scene, he was conscious,” said Fred.

“There we were in Hogsmeade, waiting to surprise him—”

“You went to Hogsmeade,” Kim said, craning her neck to look at Fred.

“Yeah, of course. To see _you_ ,” Fred said with a hint of accusation in his tone. Kim smiled fondly. _So he does care. He remembered, he showed up… we’re not doomed yet._

“Then we found out you lot aren’t allowed out at weekends anymore… fat lot of good buying Zonko’s up would do us now,” he added gloomily.

“I’m sorry, hun. I tried to tell you it was canceled, but I couldn’t get a hold of either of you.”

“We left town for business a few days ago,” George explained.

“Business that’s now fallen through,” Fred grimaced. “But never mind that now… How exactly did it happen, Harry?”

George drew up a chair beside Ron’s bed. Fred remained with his arm around Kim’s waist, his warmth a comforting feeling against her skin, but his eyes were fixed on Ron, worry creasing his brow. Kim didn’t listen as Harry explained the whole thing over again, merely watched Fred’s features, noted the minute changes in them. His concern for his brother reminded her of those soft, sentimental moments that had made her fall in love with him in the first place. They were few and far between, but like anything that was rare, they were all the more beautiful for it.

“They reckon he’ll be all right. Madam Pomfrey says he’ll have to stay here a week or so… keep taking essence of rue…” Harry said.

“Blimey, it was lucky you thought of a bezoar,” said George in a low voice.

“Lucky there was one in the room,” said Harry, whose features had been rather solemn between the moments of light chatter. It was concerning how close to death Ron had come, frightening even. It seemed no one was safe anymore, which only made Kim’s constant concern for Harry heighten. She liked to think that Dumbledore would never let anything happen to Harry, but he obviously hadn’t been able to stop this…

“Do Mum and Dad know?” Fred asked, turning his gaze to Kim.

She shrugged apologetically, taking in the full strength of his softened features. “I just got here…” She felt guilty for her thoughts, but she couldn’t stop them from wandering to just how handsome he was, how lucky she was that he was hers. She was guilty for how glad she was of an opportunity to see him, given that it was for such an unfortunate reason.

“They’ve already seen him, they arrived an hour ago,” Ginny explained. “They’re in Dumbledore’s office now, but they’ll be back soon…”

Ron shifted in his sleep a bit, making the group look at him hopefully. When he settled and didn’t stir again they all went back to plane, solemn.

“So the poison was in the drink?” said Fred.

“Yes,” said Harry quickly, seeming glad to have something to talk about, something to draw his mind from his friend’s state. “Slughorn poured it out—”

“Would he have been able to slip something into Ron’s glass without you seeing?” Fred said, moving a step from Kim to place his hands on the edge of Ron’s bed and lean on it a bit, looking intently at Harry.

“Probably,” he answered, “but why would Slughorn want to poison Ron?”

“No idea.” Fred frowned, thinking. “You don’t think he could have mixed up the glasses by mistake? Meaning to get to you?”

This idea concerned Kim greatly. Not that she’d rather see Ron die than Harry, but if someone was after Harry that meant it wasn’t random. This was a focused attack, and there would certainly be more to come.

“Why would Slughorn want to poison Harry?” asked Ginny.

“I dunno,” said Fred, “but there must be loads of people who’d like to poison Harry, mustn’t there? ‘The Chosen One’ and all that?”

“So you think Slughorn’s a Death Eater?” said Ginny.

“Anything’s possible,” said Fred darkly. Kim nodded her head thoughtfully, agreeing.

“He could be under the Imperius Curse,” said George.

“No,” Kim said, shaking her head. “Dumbledore would’ve known for certain.” She looked at Harry who seemed to agree. Of course he would, since he also knew how closely Dumbledore had been watching Slughorn, trying to get that memory from him.

“He could be entirely innocent,” said Ginny. “The poison could have been in the bottle, in which case it was probably meant for Slughorn himself.”

“Who’d want to kill Slughorn?” Fred said.

“Dumbledore reckons Voldemort wanted Slughorn on his side,” said Harry. “Slughorn was in hiding for a year before he came to Hogwarts. And… and maybe Voldemort wants him out of the way, maybe he thinks he could be valuable to Dumbledore.” Kim raised her brows and nodded again in agreement. It seemed the most likely suggestion so far.

“But you said Slughorn had been planning to give that bottle to Dumbledore for Christmas,” Ginny reminded him. “So the poisoner could just as easily have been after Dumbledore.”

This was a disturbing thought.

“Then the poisoner didn’t know Slughorn very well,” said Hermione, speaking for the first time since Kim had returned to the hospital wing. Her voice still sounded a bit strangled and stuffy. “Anyone who knew Slughorn would have known there was a good chance he’d keep something that tasty for himself.”

“Er-my-nee,” muttered Ron unexpectedly. Kim glanced at him and then at Hermione, whose expression had gone soft and glowing for a moment, the way someone’s face got when they saw something very beautiful for the first time. Then the doors to the hall flew open, making them all jump. Hagrid came lumbering down the hall, crossbow in hand and splattered with mud and rain.

“Bin in the forest all day!” he panted. “Aragog’s worse, I been readin’ to him, didn’ get up ter dinner till jus’ now an’ then Professor Sprout told me abou’ Ron! How is he?”

“Not bad,” said Harry. “They say he’ll be okay.”

“I don’ believe this,” said Hagrid hoarsely, shaking his head. “Jus’ don’ believe it… Look at him lyin’ there… Who’d want ter hurt him, eh?”

“That’s just what we were discussing,” said Harry. “We don’t know.”

“We don’t think the poison was intended for him,” Kim said, peering up at Hagrid darkly.

“Oh… Yeh sure bou’ tha’… Someone couldn’ have a grudge against the Gryffindor quidditch team, could they?” said Hagrid anxiously. “Firs’ Katie, now Ron…”

“I can’t see anyone trying to bump off a Quidditch team,” said George.

“Wood might’ve done the Slytherins if he could’ve got away with it,” said Fred fairly, making Kim smile despite herself and shake her head.

“Well, I don’t think it’s quidditch, but I think there’s a connection between the attacks,” said Hermione quietly.

“How d’you work that out?” asked Fred.

“Well, for one thing, they both ought to have been fatal and weren’t, although that was pure luck.”

“Hermione’s right,” Kim agreed. “It can’t be coincidence that both of these attacks used very powerful forms of magic, not the kind that any student could get their hands on easily.” Whoever the attacks were meant for, Kim got the feeling the same person was orchestrating them.

“Exactly,” said Hermione. “For another thing, neither the poison nor the necklace seems to have reached the person who was supposed to be killed. Of course,” she added broodingly, “that makes the person behind this even more dangerous in a way, because they don’t seem to care how many people they finish off before they actually reach their victim.”

Before anyone could respond, the doors behind them opened again and this time Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hurried up the ward. Mrs. Weasley hugged Fred and then George, muttering something fretful and then shifted to Harry, squeezing him tight. When she released him her voice became audible to all. “Oh, Harry, what can we say? You saved Ginny… you saved Arthur… now you’ve saved Ron…”

“Don’t be… I didn’t…” muttered Harry awkwardly.

“Half our family does seem to owe you their lives, now I stop and think about it,” Mr. Weasley said in a constricted voice. “Well, all I can say is that it was a lucky day for the Weasleys when Ron decided to sit in your compartment on the Hogwarts Express, Harry.”

Kim’s eyes widened slightly at the gravity of this statement. Harry seemed to feel it even more so, stammering and looking utterly out of sorts. Kim thought it also might’ve been a very unlucky day for the Weasleys, on account of the fact that since they’d known Harry they’d been exposed to countless more danger than they would’ve simply living a quant, country life at the burrow. But it spoke miles about the kind of people the Weasleys were that they chose to see it the other way.

“Only six visitors at a time!” snapped Madam Pomfrey from her office.

“Righ’, well,” said Hagrid, “better off then. Leave yeh to it.”

“I’ll come with you,” Harry agreed and started to follow Hagrid for the door. Hermione was turning to leave too, and Kim felt suddenly that this meant she had to leave as well, since everyone left in the wing was a Weasley besides herself.

“What’s wrong?” Fred asked, looking at her a bit concerned as she started to hedge away hesitantly.

“W-well, I figured,” she glanced furtively at the door and then gestured to his surrounding family as she said, “since… you know-”

“You have someplace you’ve got to be?” Fred asked genuinely.

“N-no, of course I want to stay, I just thought,” she lowered her voice to a very quiet whisper, “I thought since I’m not family…”

Fred let out a breathy laugh and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Stay. You are family.”

“O-oh,” Kim said smiling sheepishly. “Okay.” She caught George’s gaze as she looked back toward Ron’s bed to see him smiling at her warmly. Mrs. Weasley was petting Ron’s hair and talking quietly with Ginny. Mr. Weasley turned to face Kim and the twins then.

“Well, how’ve things been going for you two? Heard you were considering a second shop?”

“Not anymore,” George said dismally.

“Not enough profit in it,” Fred said in response to his father’s questioning look.

“Well,” he said, sounding rather impressed. “That’s… sensible of you.”

Kim cracked a smile. “Have you ever described these two as sensible before?” she asked wryly.

Mr. Weasley smiled good-naturedly and gave a chuckle. “Can’t say I have, no. Well, needless to say, boys, I’m very proud of you.”

“Awe, blimy, Dad,” Fred said in an overly sentimental tone.

“Don’t make me get all teary eyed,” George added, ending in a laugh that chorused with Fred’s.

For an hour or so more Kim sat with the Weasley’s before Fred and George had to head back home. They had to work early in the morning and needed sleep, and Kim needed it too. She kissed Fred goodbye, making him swear that he would make an effort to talk with her via floo powder whenever possible. Of course he agreed. Whether he’d do it or not was another thing, but her faith was at least mostly restored in him. He had come to visit her after all, even if things hadn’t gone at all as planned.

The following week people seemed quick to forget about the excitement with Ron, and in Revenclaw house it was barley a topic of discussion at all. Evidently it wasn’t as exciting as Kattie Bell’s mishap, and people were generally immune to the type of news, at least until they started to consider what it meant for themselves. Someone was picking off students, it would seem, or trying to. How long until they were successful?

Kim decided to skip that weekend’s quidditch match. She liked watching the sport, but didn’t think she’d be able to find much joy in it this time. She instead burrowed into the library in an attempt to find something about the Peverell family. She actually resigned to enlisting the librarian’s help, something she’d resisted thus far due to Madam Pince’s utterly unlikable nature. But, she was helpful. She led Kim to some books she probably never would have looked over otherwise, and finally after much toil, led her to something of substance.

She was reading a book about ancient magical families. There was a lot of information about the two brothers Antioch and Cadmus, but when it came to the entry of Ignotus there was but a few lines. “Ignotus Peverell was the youngest of the brothers and lived a substantially less marked life. He had some achievements of notoriety, including the invention of the invisibility cloak. He lived out the majority of his days in his quiet home of Godric’s Hallow with his wife and two children; his son Anselm Peverell, and his daughter Hilda Peverell, later Hilda Mazlick. He died May 18th, 1291.”

“Anselm Peverell,” Kim said allowed, breathy with the excitement of the discovery. Ignotus’s son, the young man he would’ve passed the cloak on to, according to legend. She continued to search but there was no information on Anselm Peverell. It was possible she simply wasn’t looking in the right places, but it was also possible that Anselm wasn’t as successful a wizard as his father, and so his life was unrecorded. What she really needed was a family tree of the Peverells, but no such thing seemed to exist, at least not at Hogwart’s library.

“…and then he fell, all the way from, I don’t know, how high do you think it was?” A voice floated into Kim’s ears. It was a couple of boys sitting not far from where Kim was.

“I dunno, but he sure looked cross when he fell,” chuckled another. “Thought he might kill McLaggen right there on the field!”

“Who fell?” Kim said, standing abruptly.

“Did you see it? Harry Potter! Fell clear off his broom straight to the ground!”

Kim did not find this at all amusing, as the group of boys apparently did. Without another word to them she dashed from the library and bolted into the medical wing.

“Is he alright?” she said breathlessly to Ron. He was the only other person in the wing, aside from Madam Pomfrey in her office.

“Hasn’t woken up yet, but yeah… he’ll be fine,” Ron said, looking over at Harry from where he lie in the bed beside him. As if in response to being talked about, Harry stirred and shifted, golden light from the sunset making him squint as he looked across at Ron and then at Kim.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Ron said with a winning smile.

Harry blinked and then groaned, raising a hand to feel the thick wrap of bandages on his head. “What happened?”

“Cracked skull,” said Madam Pomfrey, bustling up and pushing Harry back against his pillows. “Nothing to worry about, I mended it at once, but I’m keeping you in overnight. You shouldn’t overexert yourself for a few hours.”

“I don’t want to stay here overnight,” said Harry angrily, sitting up and throwing back his covers. “I want to find McLaggen and kill him.”

“I’m afraid that would come under the heading of ‘overexertion’,” said Madam Pomfrey, pushing him firmly back again and raising her wand in a threatening manner. “You will stay here until I discharge you, Potter, or I shall call the headmaster.”

She bustled back into her office and Harry sank into his pillows, arms crossed and face screwed up tight.

“You should be happy you’re alive,” Kim said quietly, though she knew it would do little good. He was becoming increasingly flippant with his own wellbeing, if that was possible.

“D’ you know how much we lost by?” he asked Ron through clenched teeth, ignoring Kim.

“Well, yeah I do,” said Ron apologetically. “Final score was three hundred and twenty to sixty.”

Kim sucked air in between her teeth and made a pained face before she could think to stop herself.

“Brilliant,” said Harry savagely. “Really brilliant! When I get hold of McLaggen—”

“You don’t want to get hold of him, he’s the size of a troll,” said Ron reasonably. “Personally, I think there’s a lot to be said for hexing him with that toenail thing of the Prince’s. Anyway, the rest of the team might’ve dealt with him before you get out of here, they’re not happy…”

Ron didn’t sound at all sorry about this, unsurprisingly, and Kim didn’t really understand all of what they were going on about, having missed the match. She didn’t much care about that, though, and she was considering leaving soon, now that she knew for certain that Harry was all right. Harry and Ron were still yammering in the background of her conscious as she considered where she might go next in her search for the Peverell line. Certainly not in Dumbledore’s office; if he’d had anything of use about it he’d have looked there already.

“I want to know what he’s up to,” said Harry impatiently, drawing Kim’s attention back to their conversation. “And don’t tell me it’s all in my head, not after what I overheard between him and Snape—”

“I never said it was all in your head,” said Ron, hoisting himself up on an elbow and frowning at Harry.

“Ugh, not Malfoy again,” Kim said, now fully collecting what Harry must be talking about.

“Harry, you’re getting a bit obsessed with him, really,” said Ron. “I mean, thinking about missing a match just to follow him…”

“I want to catch him at it!” said Harry in frustration. “I mean, where’s he going when he disappears off the map?”

“The marauder’s map?” Kim asked.

“Yes! Sometimes he just completely vanishes! I know he’s up to something, I just don’t know what. Or where!”

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it here, so just be patient,” Kim said.

“Nothing _I_ can do,” Harry said, looking up at Kim keenly. She didn’t understand at first. “But _you_ …”

“Oh no,” Kim said, taking a step back and shacking her hands. “I don’t want to be dragged into any more shenanigans.”

“Come on, you don’t even have to do anything! Just bring me the map, so I can see for myself if he reappears somewhere when he leaves.”

“You want me to bring you the maurader’s map. Right now.”

“Yes! Kim, please, I would owe you one.”

“You already owe me one,” Kim said, crossing her arms. Harry withered a bit at this, looking shameful. This look immediately melted any resolve she had not to help him.

“Fine,” she agreed, dropping her arms and rolling her head. “It’s in your room then?”

“Yes. Thank you!”

“You realize I’m not allowed in the Gryffindor common room, right? This is going to take some serious work.”

“Get Hermione to help, then! Please, just do it as fast as you can, he might go back to the Slytherin dormitory at any minute.”

“He might already’ve done,” she murmured bitterly. “Be back once I have it.”


	10. An Old Cloak

Chapter 10

An Old Cloak

Kim had learned a thing or two from Fred and George. In the mission to retrieve the marauder’s map from the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory she would’ve liked to enlist Hermione’s help, but Kim had no idea where she was since she wasn’t in the library, and didn’t feel like trapesing around the castle to find her. That would take too long, and there was a good chance she was already _in_ Gryffindor tower. So Kim headed down to the Great Hall, which just so happened to be clearing out around this time of evening, which meant there would be loads of students heading back to their common rooms. All she had to do was fall in line with a group of them and let them lead the way.

She undid her tie and took off her robe, folding it over her arm so the blue wasn’t visible. She fell in line with a group of girls who were chatting amongst themselves about the quidditch match and what they were going to spend their Sunday doing. Kim followed close behind which didn’t alarm the group because the hallway was fairly full.

“Diligrout,” said one of the girls to the Fat Lady. Kim made sure to bow her head and look like she was very fascinated by a loose thread on her robe. The Fat Lady might remember her, so she didn’t want to give her the chance to. She slipped into the port hole just behind the other girls and then held back a pace or two so they wouldn’t feel her presence once past the dim hallway that led into the common room. Kim stowed her robe and tie in the corner where, for at least a few minutes, she was sure it would go undisturbed.

The common room was busy, which actually made it easier to blend into the crowd. She had made it all the way across the room toward the stairs leading to the boy’s dormitory, when a voice rose up above the din of the rest.

“Hey, you’re that girl! The one who broke into the common room a few years ago for that party!” Kim made a pained face and turned, half guilty, half proud of the recognition.

“Uh, yeah well… back again,” she shrugged giving a little laugh. The girl who had pointed Kim out just gave a good natured laugh. That wasn’t all too surprising since Gryffindors weren’t obsessed with rule following like Hufflepuffs, nor did they tend to be fuddy-duddies like Ravenclaws.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” said a boy near the girl who had pointed Kim out.

“Right, well… I’ll only be a minute,” she said, and without a seconds hesitation she turned and bounded up the stairs to the distant echo of the boy saying, “You can’t go up _there_ …” She quickly came to the door leading into Harry and Ron’s dormitory. The side of the door way was marked with all the names of the boys that resided within, something she had learned from having _been_ in the boys half of the dormitories once before. She paused, hesitating. She raised a fist to the door and after holding it there for a moment in uncertainty, wrapped on the wooden surface.

“Uh- hello? Anyone in there?” she called. There was quiet for a moment, then the sound of rustling and footsteps. The door opened to reveal Seamus Finnigan at the door.

“You?” he said. “What’er _you_ doing ‘ere, you’re not even Gryffindor,” he said with a mix of surprise and indignation.

Kim cleared her throat a bit uncomfortably. “Very astute of you. Is there anyone naked in there, or can I come in?”

Seamus frowned at her, looked over his shoulder and then shrugged. He stepped back, letting her through the door.

“Thanks. I’ll be out of your hair in a second,” she muttered, moving past Seamus and looking at the beds around the room. One bed was an utter disaster, like a wrestling match had occurred at some point through the night. _Ron_ , Kim thought. The next wasn’t made but it was much neater, like the boy who had spent the night there slept like the dead, arms over his stomach and legs unmoving. _Harry._ There was also a squat golden jar of Fleetwood’s High-Finish Handle Polish on the bedside table which had its lid only half screwed on.

“Harry, right?” she asked Seamus, pointing toward the bed as he walked past her to his own.

“Yeah… what’er ye’ doin’?” he asked in a high, incredulous voice as Kim turned to the trunk at the foot of the bed.

“Harry asked me to get him something, of course,” Kim said impatiently, pushing through clothes and books alike to try and find the map.

“How do I know he really sent you, and you’re not just tryin’ to steel somethin’?” he said, crossing his arms.

Kim looked up at him sideways, her arm buried in Harry’s trunk, fingers digging for anything that felt like paper. “If I was trying to steel something… I wouldn’t be very wise to do so right here in front of two witnesses, now would I?” she said, shooting a glance at Nevil in his corner, eyes peering over top of his book, back to Seamus.

Seamus turned his head from one side to the other and looked at the ceiling, considering her words briefly.

“Fair enough,” he said with a shrug and returned to his bed where he was reading a magazine of some sort.

Finally Kim spotted the map under one of Mrs. Weasley’s hand knitted sweaters. She grabbed it, and underneath saw a peculiar fabric that looked familiar. It was the invisibility cloak, its fabric a silky thin texture that almost slid like liquid between the fingers. It was ripples of black with swirling designs and markings made of the faintest dark grey and gold, barely visible against the black. Kim picked up the cloak, curious that she had never paid much attention to the intricate detail work in its fabric. Something about the fineness of the cloth, how the threads felt worn and stretched, made the cloak feel like it was old… very old.

“It’s not possible,” Kim breathed as her eyes slid over the shapes on the cloak. “It’s just not possible.” She peddled back so there was an open space on the floor between her and the trunk that she could spread the fabric of the cloak out over. It was very wide, as it would have to be if it was intended to cover the entire body of a man. When looking at only a small portion of the fabric, the swooping designs appeared to be small, a reoccurring pattern of some kind made of filigree and lines. But after starting to lay it out and attempting to flatten all the wrinkles of it, the design started to appear as one large shape across its whole.

Kim leveled the entire thing out and then stood up to gain the proper vantage point to see its shape. She didn’t breath for a few moments. The fabric was so worn and the colors drained that it was barely visible anymore, but she could see it. The design spread over the entire length of the cloak formed a large triangle with angles lining up with the edges of the cloak, and in the very center of the fabric a great circle with swirling designs flowering off of it. There was a straight line cutting through the center of the cloak, dividing the circle and the triangle in half. The symbol of the Deathly Hallows.

“Could this really be…” she breathed.

“What’er ye’ goin’ on about over there?” Seamus asked, frowning at her from over top his magazine. Kim glanced at him, features still wide with disbelief. Her first instinct was to gather up the cloak with haste and dash away with it. But no, she couldn’t do that because the cloak was Harry’s, and she’d have to explain her reason for taking it; something she couldn’t yet do. And then there was the doubt. _Could it really be this easy? Is it possible that out of all the wide corners of the Earth, the cloak was sitting right under our noses the entire time?_ It started to feel less and less possible with every second. _What is Harry doing with the cloak? How did it come into his possession? It’s possible that this isn’t the original, and that someone just stitched this design into a regular invisibility cloak. How can I ever be_ sure _, though?_

She scooped up the cloak and stuffed it back where it had been in Harry’s chest. It would be safe there for the time being. She needed to be absolutely certain that this was _the_ cloak of invisibility before she brought this information to Dumbledore. She didn’t want to appear naive for thinking it could possibly be so easy, so she would have to be sure.

She shut the trunk and left without another word to the boys in the dormitory. She hurried from the common room, snatching up her cloak and tie on the way out. Once back in the hospital wing she slapped the map down onto Harry’s bed where he lie.

“You got it!” Harry said, sounding excited and a little surprised. He unfolded the map hastily, whispering the incantation to it so it would reveal its secrets.

“Of course I got it,” she said, though it appeared to be on deaf ears. Harry was scourging the surface of the map for Malfoy’s name. He let out a sound of disappointment and dropped his arms, body relaxing. He fell back against the pillows and sighed.

“He’s already back in the Slytherin common room. He must’ve finished whatever he was doing already. Damn!”

“Well, you’re welcome,” Kim said in an exaggerated way.

“Right, thanks.” He still sounded defeated, but Kim really needed to ask him about the cloak, and she didn’t’ feel like waiting for his mood to improve.

“Hey Harry, I was in your trunk and… it just got me wondering, where did you get that invisibility cloak. It’s a… odd looking one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, just it doesn’t look like any others I’ve seen,” she said uncertainly. “Not that I’m an expert, I haven’t really seen a whole lot…”

“It was my dad’s,” he said simply.

Kim’s eyes went just slightly wide as she tried to hide her intrigue at this bit of information. “Really?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Oh, no reason. I was just wondering,” she said, managing to sound light. “Anyway, I’ll see you later Harry. Get better, both of you,” she added, glancing at Ron and then back to Harry before she turned and left.

The best place that Kim could think of to find detailed ancestries of wizards that were not necessarily famous was the Ministry of Magic. Certainly they, who had records of every wizard, would have some information on ancestry. Unfortunately, Kim had made a trip to the Department of Mysteries for divining recently, and she had no way of knowing when they would send her another letter, inviting her back. _They really do operate on their own time,_ Kim thought, remembering what Dumbledore had told her once. That had become increasingly true ever since she had betrayed their trust by allowing Harry and the D.A. entrance into their secret rooms, and wreaking destruction on the department’s belongings in turn. She would just have to wait for the letter, but that was all right. She suspected, once there, it wouldn’t take too long to find the information she was looking for.

A week later it was March 17th, Kim’s 17th birthday. It was just in time too, that weekend students who were going to be 17 by the day of the test were getting their last lesson in apparition. When Kim sat down at the table for breakfast after being wished a lazy happy birthday from Luna and a sharp one from Clemon, she received mail from an owl she was beginning to recognize: Aunt Brit’s. The envelope had a letter from her inside, and then another envelope as well.

_Kim,_

_Happy Birthday! 17, quite a big deal for a young witch. Now you’re fully grown and can do magic wherever you’d like! I hope you know I’m proud of you, and I know your mother is too. To be a transfer into a school like Hogwarts and do so well is quite a feat, and to think you’ll be graduating so soon! I told your mom you did really well on your O.W.L.’s (which I also explained what they were) and she was thrilled. I really think you should write to her, or better yet, visit. I know you two have your differences, but you’ve got to give her a break. Having a witch for a daughter isn’t easy, and I know having a muggle mother isn’t easy either, but I hope you can find it in yourself to be forgiving._

_I love you! Do well in school,_

_Brit_

Kim sighed, pulling the letter from her mother out of its envelope next. This was a hand written one, unlike the Christmas letter she’d received over holiday.

_Hey- been a while since we’ve talked. I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Seems impossible to think you’re already 17, and if I’m not mistaken that makes you an adult in the wizarding world. Wow. Well, look, I just want to make sure you know that you can come home. I know you’re busy doing magic stuff, and that’s fine. But if you want to, you can come home for break or whenever really._

_XOXO,_

_Mom_

“Are you all right?” Hermione asked, sitting down at the breakfast table across from Kim, Harry and Ron following suit.

“Hm? Uh-” Kim stammered, suddenly aware that her eyes were teary. “Yeah, I’m fine, just…” she cleared her throat and looked back down to the letter, trying to look preoccupied with it even though she’d already read it through thoroughly. Part of her wanted to be irritated that her mother had almost made it sound like it was Kim’s choice to leave, but then again, that was her mom. She wasn’t going to admit to being in the wrong. This was about as close to an apology as she was going to get, and it put a pressure behind her eyes even if she didn’t want it to. Even if she wanted to be angry still.

Kim sniffed hastily, managing to ward off the tears, and folded up the letter, stuffing it back into the envelope.

“It’s your birthday today, isn’t it?” Hermione said, and Kim nodded.

“Well Happy Birthday then,” she said, Harry and Ron chiming in dully.

“Thanks…”

That evening she decided to write back to her mother. It seemed like it was well past time to try and mend things. She didn’t really want to be in a fight with her forever. And then there was another terrible thought that she pushed away immediately; if her and Fred didn’t last, where else would she go if not her mother’s?

She’d been waiting for a letter from Fred all day, some sort of effort on _his_ part to wish her a happy birthday. None had come. She had thought about using floo powder, but the risk that he wouldn’t be there was too high to be worth chancing it. After an already emotionally trying day, she didn’t think she could handle that kind of a letdown.

The next day Kim continued to look out for mail expectantly, but none came, nor for the rest of the week. She had let go of her sadness by now and allowed herself to tern stony and angry. _He can’t even be bothered to wish me a happy birthday. My mother, who is not a great example of a kind, loving relationship on most days, went out of her way to write me even when she hasn’t the slightest idea how to work a mail owl. She had to use_ muggle _mail to get it to Brit to send it to me, and Fred can’t even be bothered to send one sticking letter!_

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Hermione soothed Ron who was standing in line behind Kim, all of them awaiting their finial lesson in apparition. It was to take place in Hogsmeade so they could practice going a bit more than three feet in front of them. Kim wasn’t concerned, of course. She’d apparated dozens of times by now, as had Hermione. Harry had managed a time or two, but Ron had not yet been successful once.

“Easy for you to say,” he said, voice a bit shaky with nerves. Kim stepped up to Filch so he could run the Secrecy Sensor up and down her body. “You’ve apparated already.”

“Look, you’ve just got to _believe_ you can do it. Which of course, you _can_ ,” Hermione said, now her turn to be probed. Once they had all made it through the scanning they made their way to Hogsmeade, and toward Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. Kim was rather sullen all the way there. She simply wanted to get this over with, even though she should’ve been enjoying the fresh air and the nice spring day.

“Everyone, please enter the tea shop,” said Mr. Twycross, extending a hand to hold open the door for all the students to file through. Kim followed in que, stepping through the doorframe and into the warmly lit cozy tea shop. There was a woman behind the cash register running a wet cloth over the counter, and a short dark skinned man in the corner sipping on a small mug of something. There was also a brilliantly red-haired boy sitting at one of the tables to Kim’s right, looking up at her expectantly.

“Fred?” Kim said in bewilderment. Then, feeling that since this was a school function, even accidentally meeting up with her older, already graduated boyfriend was scandalous, she lowered her voice to an exclamatory whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. Happy belated birthday,” he said as he stood, also in a deep hushed voice. He lifted his hand to her cheek, coarse and warm, sliding it around to cradle the nape of her neck and pull her in for a kiss.

“Fred,” she breathed before he had really released her. “This is supposed to be apparition practice. How did you even know I would be here?”

“Of course you would, you’ve been going to all your apparition lessons, and I happened to know that this one would be here,” he said easily, gesturing around the tea shop. All the student’s had by now filed in and Mr. Twycross was shutting the door behind him. Fred continued all the same. “I was going to send you your gift in the mail, but then I really thought it better to give it to you in person.”

Kim blushed, smiling bashfully. She felt extraordinarily stupid and ashamed for being angry earlier. All the effort that had gone into this meeting made Kim feel like maybe she’d been harsh to think Fred wasn’t willing to put any effort into their relationship.

“I was going to tell you I was coming, but you never called,” he said, brow furrowing a bit. Kim could hear Mr. Twycross talking in the background, explaining their task for the day, probably, but Kim wasn’t listening to a word. “Why’d you stop calling lately?”

“Well…” Kim said guiltily, but then she would be glad to get what had been on her mind out in the open. “You hardly ever _answer._ It seems a waist of my time to call you when every time I do you’re either absent completely or refuse to come to the fire!”

“Ah-em!” came the raised voice of Mr. Twycross. “Quiet please. You’ll need these instructions for your task.” Kim shrunk a little and made a guilty expression. Twycross hadn’t addressed her directly, but she was sure he was talking about her whispers coming from the back of the group.

“I’ve just been busy,” Fred whispered, a bit quieter, though he looked unconcerned.

“I know, so have I,” Kim retorted. “But this isn’t going to work if we aren’t _both_ putting in the effort.”

Fred grimaced slightly, crossing his arms. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Kim pursed her lips at him. “Yes… you are, and I appreciate that, I really do. Just answer when I call sometimes, okay?”

“Okay,” he forfeited, but he seemed a bit agitated, looking down at her feet. She supposed she should show more gratitude. She softened her features and slipped her fingers into his. He looked up at her in response.

“I really am glad you came here to see me. I miss you so much,” she whispered. There was a loud _snap_ that made Kim jump a little. Student’s had already started apparating, but thankfully it was to be one at a time it seemed, probably due to the advanced nature of this trial, and the very dangerous likelihood of two people trying to apparat to the same spot at once. She looked back at Fred, who was less disgruntled now and said, “I really do have to go and…” she gestured to the place where another student had stepped forward from the crowed to apparate. _Snap!_

“You know it’s just practice right,” he said smoothly. “It doesn’t matter how you do yet.”

“I know, but… I haven’t apparated this far before, so I figure I should at least try once…”

“Go on then,” he said with a small smile, kissing Kim on the forehead just before she turned away to join her class. She watched another student attempt to apparate and fail. He tried a few more times and Kim grew impatient. Once his turn was over Kim stepped forward readily, wanting to get it over with. She’d gathered from the step by step instructions Mr. Twycross had given the boy who hadn’t managed to apparate that they were supposed to be ending up outside the shop. _No problem. It’s through a wall, which I guess must intimidate some people, but it shouldn’t make a difference. In practice, it’s exactly the same._

She closed her eyes and visualized the outside of the shop. Without having to move a muscle she felt herself being pulling into her stomach and lurched about. She opened her eyes when she felt the cool breeze of the open air against her cheek. She turned with a smile and returned inside the shop to Mr. Twycross’s approving nod.

“Very good, Mrs. Shimmers, as expected.”

Ron tisked at her and rolled his eyes as she shuffled past him.

“Why has Fred got to be here?” he whined, glancing over at where Fred sat at the table again, smirking over at Kim. “Now I really better manage it…”

“Stop worrying,” Hermione whispered, and continued to give him pointers as Kim proceeded through the small grouping of students.

“Nice job,” Fred said as she sat down beside him. “You might even be better at it then George and I were when we first started.”

Kim snorted sardonically. “Not _probably_ ,” she remarked, smiling at him challengingly. “Did either of you apparate on your first try? No, I know you didn’t because Twycross nearly shat himself when I did it.”

“Ho-ho,” Fred exclaimed, face lighting up as he rocked a bit in his seat before landing again against the back rest. “Now that you’ve gone a few feet you’re a confident master, ay?”

“Wait until I get out of here for the year. I’ll apparate right to your front door.”

Fred snorted, cocking an eyebrow. “Then George’d shit himself. Poor boy’d be wrought with worry if he heard you say that.”

Kim looked at the table, smiling uncomfortably. So Fred noticed how concerned for Kim’s safety George tended to be. Not to a point that it was annoying, not to a point that it was really more than friends should be, not close friends like they were. Just to a point that he seemed to be worried more than Fred was usually… _What does he think of that? Is it strange? Does it bother him?_

“Where is George?” Kim said, saying the first thing she could think to bring the conversation back to light. Fred didn’t seem to notice that it had ever shifted away, which made it easier for Kim to ignore what was to her an uncomfortable topic.

“He wanted to come, but I told him one of us had to stay and man the shop. We need to hire another employee but… eh, business talk, blah, blah, blah.”

Kim smiled. She didn’t mind hearing about the shop, but she couldn’t deny that the business side of it was rather boring. What was more, it made Kim feel odd about Fred. Like he was different now somehow. Like he was a _grown up._

_But so am I now… I’m 17, which makes me an adult… But it doesn’t_ really _change anything, does it? I’m still in school. I’m still not sure what I want to be when I’m out of school…_ Fred used to be so light hearted and carefree, and much of the time he still was. She supposed that his more serious side was a good thing, but she couldn’t help but worry it would, over time, change him irreversibly to this _business person_ that she didn’t know. That she hadn’t fallen in love with.

“So, how was your birthday?” Fred prompted, probably because Kim had gone quiet for a bit longer than was normal for conversation.

“It was good, I guess… I got a letter from my mom.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Well…” Kim shrugged, making a face of neither here nor there. “I guess it’s a good thing. We haven’t talked in a while and… she is my mom, you know.”

“Mom that won’t let you stay in her house.”

“She said I could come back.”

Fred’s brow raised in surprise. “… What’re you going to do?”

“I don’t know… I’ll visit I think, but… I don’t know if I’ll stay for long. It’s not like you’re far, but…”

“We only get the summer to actually be together,” he said, as if she needed reminding.

“I know. It’s not like I’m going to be a stranger, don’t worry.”

Fred chuckled. “You say the most ridiculous things sometimes, you know that?”

“What?” Kim said in mocking defensive voice, laughing mostly because he was. His laugh was entirely contagious.

“Well done,” came Mr. Twycross’s voice over the din of chatting students. Everyone went quiet. “We’ll be heading back to the school now if you all would please file out in an orderly manner…”

Student’s started to shift toward the door. Kim sighed and stood as she said, “Guess that’s my que.” Fred stood as well and looked down at her. “I love you,” she said, reaching up on her toes to kiss him. Ron walked up as they released one another, sauntering in that over dramatic way which was characteristic of the odd burst of confidence he tended to get after doing something he considered impressive.

“Feeling better, Ronnie,” Fred commented, nodding at him with a smirk.

“I am,” he said, indignantly for some reason Kim didn’t know. He paused for a moment as if expecting Fred to say something else and then said, “Bet you were expecting me to flub it.”

Fred looked momentarily bewildered but he recovered quickly. “There was a moment there where we thought you might not make it Ron, but Madam Pomfrey assured—”

“Not that!” Ron blurted out. He seemed not to notice that, by the way Fred had said it and was smiling now, he’d known full well that hadn’t been what Ron meant. “The apparating! You know, the whole reason we’re out here.”

“The whole reason you’re out here,” Fred corrected coolly, putting his arm around Kim’s waist and looked down at her suggestively.

Ron looked like he’d just discovered the milk was spoiled. “You mean you didn’t see?” he said, disheartened.

“See what?”

Ron’s mouth turned down on either side farther than Kim would’ve thought possible and then he turned without another word. Kim laughed.

“You shouldn’t be so cruel to him,” she said, kissing Fred one last time before she started to back toward the door. Most of the student’s had filed out by now. She only had a few seconds before she would be last out. “I’ll call you. Tonight.”

Fred made a face that was torn. “Ehh, tonight…”

Kim scowled. “Tomorrow night.”

“Yes! Yeah, tomorrow night. Love you, see you then,” he said. Kim nodded and let her expression soften. She left the tea shop and hurried after the rest of the students heading back to Hogwarts feeling oddly mixed about her meeting with Fred. She had been happy to see him and yet she couldn’t help the feeling that it hadn’t been enough. Nothing between them felt like enough these days… But then she immediately became angry with herself for the thought. _Don’t be ridiculous. Yes, having a long distance relationship is hard, but Fred loves you! And you love him! We just have to get through to this summer anyway, and then things will be easy for a while…_


	11. Family Ties

Chapter 11

Family Ties

When _tomorrow night_ came, as she and Fred had agreed, Kim bent down before green flames, muttered her intentions, and stuck her head in. The inside of Fred and George’s flat above the shop made Kim feel suddenly very homesick, more than it usually did. The summer she’d spent there had been possibly the best time of her life, and seemed so distant now. Before she even had to say anything a sway of orange was coming toward her from the kitchen. But it wasn’t Fred.

“Hey George,” Kim said. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” he said lightly, sinking into the couch. I got a great idea for a _self-propelling custard pie_ today.”

“Sounds messy,” she said matter-of-factly.

“As most good things are,” he said back in the same air, making Kim laugh lightly. The aching in her chest to be back where they were was starting to subside. _Maybe what’s been wrong between Fred and I is that he hasn’t treated me as much as a_ friend _anymore. Maybe that’s what I’ve been missing… But then, that’s not really true, is it? He still talks to me the same usually…_ The very concept that there was something wrong between her and Fred made her uncomfortable, so she pushed the thought away, as if not thinking about it might help.

“So, Fred around?” she asked.

“He stepped out to pick some things up at the store.”

“Oh…” Kim said, thinking she should be let down, but she wasn’t surprised or really even all that bothered.

“He’ll be back soon though!” George said, taking her following silence as sorrow.

“It’s all right,” she said, tilting her head to the side in a shrugging motion.

“He told me about your apparition practice,” he chuckled. “And here you thought you weren’t good at magic.”

Kim shrugged. “It’s a lot like meditating for divination, so… naturally, I’m good at it.”

“You know, Fred always talks high and mighty about passing the test on the first try, but… he didn’t apparate a single time in practice until the last day,” he whispered, as if Fred who wasn’t even home might hear him.

“Really?” Kim said, full volume. George snickered, enjoying Kim’s reaction. “Seriously, after all that big talk. Oh my gosh,” she laughed. “Oh, I am definitely going to talk to him about that.”

“Yeah, he’ll probably kill me for telling you, but…” he shrugged and smiled. “Probably worth it.”

Kim laughed again. Already she’d laughed more in this past few minutes than she ever seemed to lately.

“George,” she said, sighing as she came down from laughter, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You make me feel normal, you know?”

His features, as they calmed from laughter as well, turned slightly embarrassed, and yet there was still a grin turning his lips up on one side.

“I miss having you both around all the time. I miss Fred for other reasons, of course, but I just miss… I don’t know, _us_. The way it was before you guys left school.”

George looked up at her then, eyes so warm it made her chest ach. “I miss it too.”

“At least you have Fred, and the shop.”

“You have Fred too,” George laughed. But it didn’t feel like it really.

“I don’t know… has he seemed… different to you lately?”

George made a face of uncertainty. “Not really, no… Busier, but he’s always kind of been like this. You’re talking about his obsession with his work?”

“Sort of…” she said, though she didn’t quite think that was right.

“You probably didn’t realize, because we were at school, but Fred is the hard worker between the two of us. It was disguised by the fact that neither of us worked at school,” he said anecdotally.

Kim smiled as if she agreed, but then she thought about it. Hadn’t she always known that Fred was dedicated in a truly obsessive way to pranks? George was too, if she was being honest, even if Fred was marginally more so. But that hadn’t ever bothered her before, and she didn’t think it was bothering her now… so what was it then?

“What time is it?” she asked, maybe to distract herself from the uneasiness.

“9:30” George said after checking his watch.

Kim sighed and made a small groaning sound. “I have homework I’ve got to do for the morning.”

“Kim, putting homework off till the last minute. _Tisk Tisk_ ,” he said, shaking his head theatrically.

“Oh, shut it,” she laughed, though it hardly covered up that she really was bothered, but not by what he had said. Fred still hadn’t come back yet, and she felt she should stay to talk with him. If she got off now, didn’t that make _her_ the one that wasn’t putting in enough effort? But she really did have a whole essay to write. She wasn’t worried about it, but it would take time. She found herself wondering, shamefully, _is it even worth it? To stay here, elbows sore against the floor, craning my neck for a 10 minute conversation that would be exactly the same one I’m having with George already?_

And there it was. There was what had been bothering her. It hit her so sharply her face sunk hard into a frown, like a flinch, like being punched in the gut. Fred and George were _not_ the same person, but much of what she loved about Fred was also there in George. The laughter. The easiness. The free spirited nature of them that made her feel like anything was possible, and something extraordinary was undoubtedly waiting around the corner. What George was that Fred wasn’t, however, was _there._ He was _there,_ right on the other side of the fire and Kim hadn’t for a second questioned that there was anywhere he’d rather be. He might’ve been just as obsessed with pranks and the joke shop and having a good laugh as Fred, but at least for the 30 minutes they sat across from each other in his Livingroom, she was all he seemed to care about. And Fred didn’t usually give her that. Not anymore.

“Uh, I-I better get going,” she said uneasily, only glancing up at George now.

“Oh, uh, all right. You want me to tell Fred yo—”

“Tell him I couldn’t wait forever. I have homework.” The words were far harsher than Fred probably deserved, but she thought George would likely soften them up in delivery. She cleared her throat to try and scrape out whatever was making her sound so cold. “I’ll see you later. Goodnight.”

She pulled her head from the fire without waiting for a response, though she had managed to sound much kinder in her last words, and she’d heard the beginnings of a ‘goodnight’ from him. She sat back, shoulder’s wobbly and stiff. She didn’t move to get up, merely leaned back against the foot of Clemon’s bed by the fire and stared off at nothing.

_Did I make a mistake… did I choose the wrong twin?_

* * *

_No. No, no, no, no, no. Do not think that. That is ridiculous, they are not the same person, it doesn’t work like that. George is your best_ friend _. Fred is your boyfriend, you fell in love with_ him. _You chose_ him. _We’ve been together for a year and a half now, and we sort of dated for nearly a year before that! After all that time, things are bound to change. I’ve never been in a relationship for that long, not nearly. And neither has he! So we’re not experts, and things are getting harder. That’s got to be normal, right? So all this, all these thoughts, they’re just coming from things changing. But it’ll get better. Just be patient. I just have to be patient, and I have to keep giving it my all. That’s all._

Now feeling rather guilty about not staying on the network for Fred, she hastily buried herself in the essay she needed to write for Professor Firenze comparing and contrasting mallowsweet with shrivelfig root for inducing a more open mind in meditation.

For the next week Kim avoided thinking about George at all, and focused instead on trying to improve things with Fred. She called him the next day, and this time he answered right away, apologizing that he’d missed her the night before, though he seemed a bit sore at her for not waiting a bit longer. Still, it meant she could spend the whole time talking with Fred, and none of it talking with George, which she told herself was a good thing.

As April arrived Kim finally got a letter from the Department of Mysteries telling her when to arrive for another session with the Oracle. She arrived promptly and eager to get the session over with as fast as possible. Once she was finished, she would finally be able to farther her investigation on the invisibility cloak. When she arrived out of the fire, however, it was not Mr. Branderbon that was there to greet her.

“Hello, Ms. Shimmers,” said the black haired man. He was tall and sticklike, with hair slicked back like a crow, contrasted against his pallid complexion. He appeared to be younger than Mr. Branderbon, and yet his beak nose and bent, dark eyebrows made him all the more intimidating, despite his youth.

“Uh, hi,” Kim said uncertainly.

“Come this way please,” he said in a very dull, flat voice, offering no further explanation as to who he was. Kim followed him obediently, not saying a word until they had made it all the way into the room of doors.

“Is Mr. Branderbon not here today?” Had he ever taken a day off? She didn’t think so…

“Mr. Branderbon is no longer with us,” he said dully.

Kim stood stalk still in the center of the circular room, not following the crow-like man to the open door into the Mysterious Libraries.

“W-W- really?” she stammered.

The man turned to her, eyelids half open, and then gained a faint expression of realization. “I beg your pardon, miss. I merely meant that Mr. Branderbon no longer _works_ with us.”

“O-oh,” Kim said with relief, letting out the air that had been frozen in her chest. She followed behind the man who had turned without hesitation to enter the Mysterious Libraries. Only then, a moment after the relief had worn off, did it occur to Kim how odd it was that Mr. Branderbon was just _gone_ like that. Wouldn’t he have mentioned he was quitting last time they met, merely a month ago? Perhaps he didn’t want to discuss it, but still… she’d been working with him for years now, she’d of thought he could afford her a simple word of warning.

“So… did he transfer to a different department, or…” They rounded the square shelves of nick-knacks and there was Mr. Branderbon’s desk, except none of his things were on it any longer. In fact, there was basically _nothing_ on it save for a slate name plaque that read _Munglo Shrenn_ sitting in the center, and a notebook and quill. Mr. Branderbon hadn’t even _had_ a name plaque, Kim didn’t think.

“That is not for me to discuss,” responded Mr. Shrenn. “All you are to know is that you will not be working with Mr. Branderbon again. You instead will be working with me.”

“All right,” Kim said plainly, though she couldn’t help feeling rather uncomfortable in the seat across from the desk now.

“We will not be working with the oracle today, but instead I will be asking you a few questions,” said Mr. Shrenn as he looked down at his notepad, which turned out to be more of a thick binder-like file with pages of very neat and form-like text on it.

“Okay…”

“Let us begin, then,” he said, looking up and taking his quill in hand. “In your opinion, did Mr. Branderbon ever seem to give you more leeway then what was appropriate? Did he seem to favor you in any way?”

“No,” Kim said, shaking her head. She felt this was the right answer, but her voice came out shaky still. “No, I mean, he treated me… normal.” She laughed nervously. Mr. Shrenn didn’t respond or move to write anything down, but merely stared at Kim blankly. She shifted uncomfortably, thinking about the word choice ‘favor you’. Was this some kind of sexual harassment investigation? It so, they certainly had the wrong man. Mr. Branderbon had been boring and stiff, and kind enough, but never _flirtatious._ The idea would’ve made her laugh if Mr. Shrenn’s dark grey eyes weren’t still peering at her unnervingly. “I’m not sure what you mean by _favored me_.”

Mr. Shrenn gave a sharp inhale and merely said, “Very well,” and nothing else. He turned to his neat page and preceded to write in a blank space. Kim stared at him, frowning in utter confusion.

“In your opinion, did Mr. Branderbon do his job thoroughly and with scrutiny?”

“Yeah… I mean, I only saw the part of his job that involved me, but…”

“Yes, Ms. Shimmers, I am referring to his job in regards to you.”

“Then, yeah. He was good…” She had no idea what she was supposed to say. After all, Mr. Branderbon had been a very unextraordinary man. What was there to tell?

“In your opinion,” he continued once more after quickly writing on his page and looking back up at Kim, “were you always 100% transparent with the department in regards to your visions both in and outside of the ministry walls?”

Kim hesitated for a beat. Suddenly, this was seeming less like an investigation of Mr. Branderbon, and more like an investigation of… her. “Yes,” she said plainly. Her voice wasn’t shaking anymore, and she was no longer frowning out of confusion, but rather out of skepticism. “Can I ask what this is about?”   

Mr. Shrenn looked up lazily. “Merely some contractual obligations.”

_What the fuck does that mean…_ “Okay…”

He wrote for a few seconds more, and then, “Have you ever withheld information regarding your visions to the ministry of magic in anyway?”

“No,” she said at once. She knew full well this was a lie, but she was focusing now on holding up shields around her mind to protect her from ligilimency. If someone were trying to enter her mind, she was sure she would feel it, but for the present there was nothing.

“In the time that you’ve worked with the Department of Mysteries, have you ever felt that a vision was too serious, or too personal to share with the department?”

“Sure,” Kim said, shrugging lightly. “But I’ve always told them anyway. Those are the rules, after all. If you look at my records you’ll find _lots_ of deeply personal visions. About friends… boyfriends…” And this was true, but Mr. Shrenn seemed to pick up on the notes of flippancy in her voice and grimaced. He scribbled down her answer hastily and then said, “Very well. We’re done here. You may see yourself out.”

“Thank you,” Kim said curtly, and did just as he’d said. But she wasn’t ready to leave the Ministry just yet. The odd line of questioning was concerning, as well as the replacement of the dull but familiar Mr. Branderbon with the even duller to the point of it being somehow threatening Mr. Shrenn. However, Kim had come here with another task in mind, and she intended to complete it before she returned to Hogwarts. She went straight for the front desk to the witch who was running security.

“Hey Berttie,” Kim said lightly to the dark skinned woman with thick braids running down her back, and an even thicker frame.

“How goes it, Kim?” she said absently, glancing at her only fleetingly as she flipped through paperwork. She had an unusual accent, a little African sounding, though Kim had never asked her what language, and a little English. Kim was familiar with it, though, because Berttie had liked to make conversation with Kim when she was checking in and out ever since she’d learned the fact that Kim had snuck her friends into the Department of Mysteries and wreaked mayhem. For a security wizard, she was oddly amused by that fact.

“I needed to ask you a question.”

“Well shoot girl, I’m clearly not goin’ nowhere.” She lifted a large stamp and slammed it down on the forms before shifting them aside.

“Where would I go, like what department, if I was trying to find out about a wizard’s ancestry?”

Berttie raised an eyebrow at Kim and then went back to her stamp. _Slam!_ “That’d be Public Information Services. Sixth floor.”

“Great. Thanks. Um, and… am I _aloud_ to look at a wizard’s ancestry if they aren’t… you know, if it’s not _mine?_ ”

Again Berttie shot her a look but this time she stopped her stamping. “You gettin’ yourself into trouble again?”

Kim snickered and shrugged. “Can people really change, Berrtie?”

This made her crack a smile, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Kim smiled in return, pleased with herself. Berttie was the kind of person that you wanted to make laugh for some reason.

“You can look at a wizard’s lineage file as long as it hasn’t been sealed by that wizard. Most purebloods don’t seal their records, but non-purebloods pretendin’ to be pure…” She gave Kim a look, and the rest was obvious.

“Right, got it. Thanks Berttie. Be back soon,” she said, hurrying off to the lift. Harry’s father was pureblood if she remembered correctly, and she couldn’t imagine the potter’s sealing their records out of shame if they weren’t, from everything she’d been told about them.

When she reached the sixth floor Kim had to weave through hallways, following signs bringing her past the Broom Regulatory Control Office and the Apparition Test Center. Finally she entered through a pair of double doors that read Public Information Services.

The room was bright and sunny (synthetically so, since all of the Ministry was underground) and had a large waiting room. Luckily it was relatively empty, though Kim still wondered if she would have to wait in a cue.

“Hi,” Kim said politely to the woman behind the desk with curly brown hair. “I was wondering if this is the place I can find the records of wizards’ lineage?”

“Certainly, that would be Linda’s office. She can get you whatever file you’re looking for, first door on the right, just down that hall.” The woman pointed.

“Thank you,” Kim said and went to the first door on the right. It was open, revealing a slim woman wearing thick spectacles and writing something hastily on parchment. Her office was tidy and very plane aside from a piddly plant with well tended glittery blue buds in the corner. 

“Hi, come in. What family can I help you with?”

“Um, I was looking for the ancestry of the Potter family?” Kim asked, sitting in the chair across from Linda. She looked up at the mention of the Potter name.

“You’re not a Potter,” she said, still holding her quill poised over the page from where she’d stopped seemingly mid word to look at Kim. “No one is, except for Harry Potter, of course. _The Chosen One,_ they call him,” she giggled.

“R-right,” Kim said uncertainly.

“That’s all right dear,” Linda chuckled, finishing her sentence on the page and then setting down the quill. “Can’t all be family of the _Chosen One_ … Actually none of us can,” she said, chuckling at her own joke again as she stood. “But the Potter file is open, I know that one by heart.”

“Oh, good… Do people ask for it a lot?” she asked.

Linda paused in the doorway and pursed her lips, looking up in thought. “Mmm… No. Not in the entire time I’ve been here. It’s just- well… when you’ve got access to all the files, you get curious about famous people like that,” she said, again laughing. Kim smiled and nodded as if she got the joke. Linda disappeared for a few minutes. Kim looked at the time. It was 15 minutes passed when she would’ve been expected back at Hogwarts.

_Aren’t you worried you’ll get in trouble?_ She could hear Hermione’s voice in her mind. She smiled wickedly. _Not likely. Who would I get in trouble with, Dumbledore?_

Linda bustled back into the room with a box in her hand. The loud thud it made as she plopped it on her desk surprised Kim, having thought by the way she’d been carrying it that it was only half full. She ripped off the lid and fingered through the files.

“Ugh,” she grumbled, “I know there’s an ancestry already constructed in here… But it’s not where it should be.” She opened her drawer and picked up a wand. She flicked it at the box, saying, “Accio ancestry file.”

A folder came zipping out of the center of the box and landed in Linda’s hand. “Here you are,” she said, giving it to Kim. “Should be a good place to start. You can look at more specific files with dates and biographies if you like. Just let me know if you need help finding anything,” she said, sliding the box across the desk so it was closer to Kim before she sat back down.

“Thank you,” Kim said with a polite smile as she opened the file excitedly and Linda went back to her writing. Kim opened the file to an immense and ornate family tree. It was daunting and written in hard to read, scrawling hand writing. Kim took a bracing breath and looked to its base. Of course there was only one at the bottom. Harry Potter. She felt a sudden pound of guilt for looking into something so personal of Harry’s, an area that was both confusingly unknown and oddly dear to him. _For his benefit,_ she reminded herself shortly and refocused.

She looked higher up toward the top of the tree, which was at least a half roll of parchment long. At the top were names that didn’t stand out to Kim except for their ancient sounding nature. She read over every single one until she had gotten a few inches from the top and her eyes were stuck on something she recognized.

_Hardwin Potter—Iolanthe Peverell_

_Peverell._ But Iolanthe appeared to be a women, which meant the cloak wouldn’t have gone to her… Unless she had no brothers!

“Um, is there anything in that box about Iolanthe Peverell? She was married to Hardwin Potter, if that helps,” Kim said.

“Let’s see, Accio Iolanthe Peverell.” Nothing happened. Kim’s heart sunk. “Accio Hardwin Potter.” A file began yanking itself free, with some difficulty, and landed in Linda’s hand. “Might have something in here. Give it a try.”

“Thank you.”

Kim opened the file and read hungrily. _Hardwin Potter was the eldest son…inherited his father’s wealth… Married Iolanthe Peverell of Godric’s Hallow… Known for her beauty… Met each other in—ugh I don’t care!... was the only child of Anselm Peverell. Only Child. Yes! That means that the cloak could’ve gone to her, since Anselm would’ve had no son to pass it to! And maybe she carried on the tradition of passing it down, all the way down the line to Harry! He has it! He has the_ real _cloak of invisibility!_

It was very difficult not to shake with triumph in Linda’s tidy little office, but Kim managed by tapping her foot on the floor a bit forcefully to exert the excitement.

“Thank you,” she said in an exuberant tone, “found what I needed.”

“Glad to hear it! Mind if I ask what you were looking for?” she asked good-naturedly.

“Uh…” Kim hesitated, pausing in the doorway as Linda put the lid back on the box. “Just an argument with my friend. He was convinced Harry Potter was related to… the Shimmer’s family,” she said, shaking her head like it was ridiculous. Maybe it was a bad idea to use her own name in this made up explanation, but that was all that had come to her mind on the spot.

“Shimmers… that sounds familiar… actually,” Linda said, taking the lid off once more and flipping through the files. “Ah yes, here it is. The Potters are related to the Shimmers.”

Kim’s smile drained from her face as she stared at the folder Linda held outstretched for her. “What?” She didn’t understand what Linda had said. Not even the meaning of the words had quite made it into her conscious mind.

“Take a look,” Linda said, gesturing to file. Kim took it but didn’t open it right away. “I’m afraid your friend was right,” Linda continued lightly, “the Shimmer’s and the Potter’s _are_ related. Distantly of course, but its all there.”

Kim screwed up her face and opened the file. _It must be some other Shimmers._ The page that Linda had left on top was a smaller family tree showing only the linkage of the Potters and the Shimmers and their children thereafter. Sicieallia Fleamont and Gene Potter were parents to two children. Henry Potter, who from what Kim could tell was Harry’s great grandfather, and Elizabeth Potter. Elizabeth Potter had married Carl Shimmers, a muggle, as denoted under his name on the family tree.

Below Carl and Elizabeth was Edward. There was nothing beyond this point, likely because Carl and Edward were muggles, which was not of interest to the Ministry of Magic. But Edward Shimmers was a name of great interest to Kim, because it was her grandfather’s name on her mother’s side. Shimmers was not her father’s last name, but her mother’s, and since they hadn’t been married since she was just a little girl, Kim had taken Shimmers as her last name like her mother. Kim was a decedent of the Peverell family. That was where she got her magic blood. Just like Harry.

“Aren’t magic families so interesting?” asked Linda lightly as Kim continued to stare at the page, wide eyed. “Everyone thinks their boring, you know, that this is kind of a boring desk job, but no! There’s a lot of families that are surprisingly related, and _oh, especially_ the purebloods. There are some _scandalous_ marriages on those trees, let me tell you.” Kim was staring off at nothing, which Linda took to mean she was done with the file. It slid out of her fingers almost without her notice as Linda took it and stuffed it into the box. Slowly her eyes drifted up to Linda.

“Yes…” she said faintly, unable to feign normality in that moment. “Thank you… Um… Have a nice day.”

“You too dear,” Linda said with a smile and a bit of a confused frown that she seemed to be trying to hide. Kim turned and walked from the department in a daze.

“Find what you were looking for?” Berttie asked as Kim retrieved her wand at the front desk.

“Hm?” Kim said slowly, still in a daze.

“Did you find what you were looking for? In the Public Information Services Office?”

“Oh, yeah…I found out I’m related to Harry Potter.” She didn’t know why she blurted it out like that. Maybe because she was still trying to wrap her head around it. Maybe because she didn’t yet believe it. Maybe because she was starting to realize that at least for the time being, this too would have to be a secret.

“Really?” said Berrtie conversationally.

“Yeah… He would be my,” she thought about it. “My cousin. He _is_ my cousin, I mean…”

“Distant though, I’ll bet. Otherwise you would have known.”

Kim nodded.

“Well, don’t let the fame change you, girl,” she said with a chuckle and a wink as she handed back Kim’s wand.

“Thanks,” Kim said, forcing a smile that she hoped looked genuine and leaving Berrtie and the Ministry behind her. As the shock of what she’d learned was wearing away, she tried to tell herself that nothing had changed. That Harry was still one of her best friends that she cared for, and wanted to protect, and that nothing had to be different. But still when she saw him next, sitting across from her at dinner, she couldn’t help staring at him and thinking that she was Harry’s _family…_ Probably the only family he had left…


	12. Luck Runs Out

Chapter 12

Luck Runs Out

As soon as Kim was able, she arranged a meeting with Dumbledore in his office. She had not yet told Harry anything, including that they were cousins, for fear that she would be going against Dumbledore’s wishes. If she told Harry that she was related to him, she would have to explain how she knew, which would require her to explain _why_ she’d been researching his ancestry. She suspected it wouldn’t be long before Harry was told about all of this, all the secrets she and Dumbledore had kept from him that year. Once he knew the truth, telling him about their shared heritage would be easy, so she didn’t bother trying to come up with a way to tell him before then.

And then there was also the fact that Kim was uncertain she should tell him at all. What would he think of the news? What did she think? Part of her was still having a hard time believing it to be true, though she had seen the proof for herself. Perhaps Harry wouldn’t even believe her on just her word.

“Come in,” came Dumbledore’s voice from within his office. Kim opened the door and shut it behind her. Her fingers were trembling even though she’d come here for important conversations many times before. None of them quite felt like this.

Dumbledore stood still by the stairs, watching Kim as she moved to the center of his office by the chair, but didn’t say a word. He patiently waited for her to speak.

“I’ve done what you asked. I found the invisibility cloak, the one from the legends.”

“As I knew you would,” he said, smiling keenly. “Though this was impressively quick, even for a witch of your intelligence.”

“Well… it wasn’t nearly as hard as you would expect… Professor… Harry’s cloak is the cloak of invisibility. The one cut from Death’s cloak. He’s had it all along.”

At this, Dumbledore’s smile faltered and his brow furrowed slightly. “That’s… not possible.”

“Not just possible, it _is._ I’ve done all my homework, let me explain before you say it’s not true. First of all, I thought the same exact thing when I first had the idea… It started when I was getting- something for Harry,” she said, stumbling a bit on the words. She thought it would’ve been wiser to leave out that she had ventured into the boys dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, two things simultaneously that were forbidden. But, alas, it was too late now, and it _had_ led her to completing the mission Dumbledore had issued her, so he couldn’t be too angry with her.

“Well, to be honest professor, I went into his dormitory to get it… Sorry, he was in the hospital wing and, anyway, I saw the cloak in his trunk and I was just curious, you know, not really thinking anything of it. I pulled it out and noticed some odd markings. They’re very faint, if you weren’t looking at it closely you wouldn’t see them at all. And then, even if you did see them, unless you laid it out on the floor so you could see the whole thing at once, you wouldn’t know what they were. Professor Dumbledore… his cloak has the symbol of the Deathly Hallows on it.” She paused, giving the importance of her words dramatic effect and letting them sink in.

“That is… I must say I’m displeased with myself for having missed something that… well, obvious. Right under my nose. But, unfortunately, I am merely an ordinary man that happens to be very good at appearing extraordinary,” he said, sounding rather tired as he lowered himself into his chair. “And so I am just as capable of human errors such as these as anyone else.

“But before we allow ourselves to rejoice fully, I must be the cloud of skepticism for a moment; even if the cloak _appears_ as a Deathly Hallow, there is no guarantee that it wasn’t merely fashioned after its original counterpart. Harry’s cloak no doubt has had a very long life for an invisibility cloak, being first his father’s when he was Harry’s age. Be we must be certain before we can go any farther.”

Kim was smiling, but waiting patiently for Dumbledore to finish as to not interrupt. “There’s more, professor. I had the same thought as you; I had to be sure before I bothered you with it. So I went to the Ministry of Magic, for my divination session. Afterword I paid a visit to Public Information Services. That’s where they keep family records, ancestries and that sort of thing. See, I thought that if Harry had the cloak it could be because it was passed down to him, and to his father, and so on, all the way back. I had been trying to follow the Peverell family line, but hadn’t had any luck. I know now that’s because the last name was lost on Ignotus’s side when his son had only a female heir.

Anyway, I found the documentation of Harry’s lineage pretty easily. And it was right there… Harry is a direct descendant of Ignotus Peverell. The cloak would’ve passed to the Potter family when Iolanthe married into the Potter family. His cloak is real… It’s the one.”

It was quiet for a moment as Dumbledore seemed to take all this in. “I must say, Kim… I’m impressed with your thorough research. You saw what I missed, a perfect example why sometimes working alone can be a great folly. A mistake that sent Voldemort to his grave already once before. And one that I suspect will send him there once again.”

Kim nodded thoughtfully. “So… what now? We have all three. They’re here…” Kim’s heart started to race at the thought that this could all happen right then, that the answer to so many of Kim’s questions could be just before her now. It was almost happening _too_ fast.

“We can’t be certain what will happen when the Deathly Hallows are united. Therefore, we must be prepared for the worst possibilities. Wards… _protection_ from what might come from the Hallows. It will take some time to prepare, but not long. I’ll notify you once the time’s come. Will you be able to retrieve the cloak from Harry, or shall I?”

Kim thought about the question. Certainly she could get it, but how was she to go about it? A lie, or finally the truth? “Professor… when are we going to tell Harry about all this? At this point he seems so involved, so close to it all… what if he finds out before we can tell him, what if he runs off and does something rash.”

“That is the precise reason we mustn’t tell him just yet.”

“When then? When will be the right time? We have all the Hallows, if there’s a way to save him, we _have_ it—”

“We know nothing for certain yet,” Dumbledore said sternly. Kim swallowed the rest of her argument. Relaxing, the headmaster let out a long breath, staring at his desk for a moment. “Once we know for certain that this method will spare Harry’s life… then we shall discuss the matter of telling him.”

Kim paused. She was accepting of this condition, but what if the Deathly Hallows didn’t work? Then what… She decided not to think about it. “All right,” she said. There was a lump in her throat that was making it difficult to talk. “So… you’ll tell me when it’s ready?”

“Yes. Get the cloak as soon as possible. The preparations won’t take long.”

* * *

“Hagrid, are you all right?” Kim finally asked. It was the following week from when Dumbledore had instructed her to get the invisibility cloak, which she had done easily by just asking if she could borrow it for a few days. Now all she had to do was wait for Dumbledore to let her know when it was time.

“No!” Hagrid bellowed in response. He had barely managed to keep it together this long. He’d been an increasing wreck ever since Aaragog had fallen ill, and his emotional state seemed to be accelerating exponentially for the past week.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, though she felt certain she knew. Still, if there was an off chance that she was wrong she didn’t want to remind him of another devastating thing to bring him even closer to tears. He seemed to already be wobbling on the brink of sobbing as it was.

“It’s Aaragog!” he bellowed, and there were the tears, now springing from his eyes.

“Oh… that’s awful, what’s happened?” she said, cringing not out of pity but out of discomfort. Part of her wished she hadn’t come down to offer her help with grounds keeping as she sometimes did, but the other parts of her felt guilty for the notion. She could only imagine how she would feel if Strix died, and there were plenty of people who would think the small owl a monster, if they knew as much about her mysterious nature as Kim did.

“He’s died!” His cry was followed by a terrible moan and a sob.

“Oh, oh no, Hagrid. I-I’m so sorry,” she said, trying very hard to sound distraught by the news. She was sincerely sorry for Hagrid’s sake at least.

“I knew… I knew it was commin’ but tha’ don’ make it any be’er,” he mumbled into a towel sized handkerchief.

“Well… if there’s anything I can do,” she offered feebly, patting him on the back.

“There is, actually. Will yeh come ta’ his funeral? I’m holdin’ it at dusk. I- It was his favorite time ‘a day,” he moaned, more tears flooding from his eyes.

“Oh… oh, well… I mean, I didn’t know him very well—”

“Bu’ you met him. It would mean a lot ta me if yeh were there. Harry, Ron, and Hermione too a’course,” he said.

Kim sighed. With him sobbing like he was she would do just about anything to appease him. “Of course, I-I’ll tell them. We’ll be there. It’s… at dusk you said?”

He nodded his massive and sopping face. “I know it’s late, past when yer supposed to be out, but if yeh could manage it, it’d mean the world to me, and I know it would to Aaragog too.”

“Right. All right. Like I said… we’ll be there. I better go, um… find them and let them know.”

“Thanks Kim. Yer always there fer me. Means a lot.”

“No problem, Hagrid. See you later and… hang in there,” she said supportively and then turned to head off in an attempt to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione, mainly because if she was forced to be at Aragog’s funeral, she wouldn’t be doing it alone.

As it just so happened the three of them were gathered on the lawns, as many students were with sunny skies and warmer temperatures of spring coming about. It was a break for a lot of students since lunch had only just ended.

“Hey guys,” Kim said, approaching and plopping down in the grass beside Hermione as they returned her greeting. “What uh… what are you guys up to?”

“What you see is what you get,” Ron said blankly.

“Any plans for tonight?”

Harry looked at her. “It’s Monday.”

“Right, so no then… Well… Aragog died.”

“The world will never be the same,” Ron said in a very flat and sarcastic tone.

“Well, Hagrid might not be,” she said, not harshly but firmly. It was a bit dramatic. She was sure he would heal with time, but for the present he was an utter mess. She also knew the only way she’d get them all to go the funeral with her was the same way Hagrid had gotten her into it; guilt.

“He must be terribly upset…” Hermione said.

“Oh, that’s an understatement. And… well he asked me, and all of you, to do something for him… to help him get over this, er, loss.”

Both Harry and Ron looked very skeptically at her, but Hermione seemed willing at least.

“He’s holding a funeral for Aragog, and he wants us to go…”

“He’s _mental!_ ” said Ron furiously. “That thing told its mates to eat Harry and me! Told them to help themselves! And now Hagrid expects us to go down there and cry over its horribly harry body!”

“It’s not _that_ bad, Ron,” Hermione said, though it wasn’t with nearly as much fervor as her usual scoldings. “It’s for _Hagrid,_ not Aragog. We should do it for his sake.”

Kim made a pained face, for she was now realizing she should’ve led with the fact that this funeral was to take place after school hours. She was certain this would be a deal breaker for Hermione, who was currently the only one on her side.

“Well…” she began tentatively. “It’s also at dusk, so that’s a little inconvenient.”

“At dusk?” Hermione said, all notions of pity vanished. “Why is it a dusk? We can’t go out at that hour.”

“I know. And Hagrid knows, too,” Kim said hastily. “But it’s really important for some reason that it’s at dusk and he asked if we all could find a way out there to be there for him.”

Harry shook his head exasperatedly as Hermione looked dumb struck and exclaimed, “Oh, for heaven’s sake!”

“It’s not ideal, but—” Kim tried to say, but Hermione spoke over her.

“He knows security’s a million times tighter, and how much trouble we’d be in if we were caught, does he not?”

“I-I’m sure he does… but this is just really important to him, and I don’t think he’s quite thinking clearly. You should’ve seen him when he told me all this, he was balling his eyes out! The only thing that had given him the tinniest bit of solace was me telling him we would be there!” This had been intended as another guilt trip, but it seemed to backfire.

“You told him we’d go?” Harry demanded.

“Well—”

“Kim, you can’t really expect,” Hermione interjected.

“What was I supposed to say?” Kim said in a high voice. “He was literally sobbing, and I just didn’t have the hart not to help him!”

“We _have_ been down to see him by night before,” Harry reasoned.

“Yes, but for something like this?” said Hermione. “We’ve risked a lot to help Hagrid out, but after all, Aragog’s dead. If it were a question of saving him—”

“I’d want to go even less,” said Ron firmly. “You didn’t meet him, Hermione. Believe me, being dead will have improved him a lot.”

Harry seemed torn, which gave Kim some hope at least. “Was he really sobbing?” he asked, looking over at Kim.

“Worse than I’ve ever seen him,” Kim said, shaking her head in emphasized disbelief.

“Harry, you _can’t_ be thinking of going,” said Hermione. “It’s such a pointless thing to get detention for.”

“Just a minute ago you were saying we should do it for Hagrid,” Kim reminded her.

“Yes, when I thought it was just during the day, and there was no harm in it!”

Harry sighed. “Hermione’s right. It’s not worth detention.”

“So, what?” Kim asked in a high voice.

“I s’pose Hagrid’ll have to bury Aragog without us is what,” Harry said plainly, though he sounded slightly sorry.

“Yes, he will,” Hermione put firmly, looking relieved. “Anyway,” she continued, after a very brief pause, looking at Harry intently, “as I was saying before, Potions will be almost empty this afternoon, with us all off doing our tests… Try and soften Slughorn up a bit then!”

Kim couldn’t believe the discussion had shifted so quickly.

“I guess I’m going to Aragog’s funeral myself then,” she said harshly.

“Kim, you don’t have to go, he’s asking too much,” Hermione said.

“You know, for someone who’s willing to sacrifice their first born for elf rights, you sure don’t give a shit about your grieving friend,” Kim snapped, letting her anger get the better of her. “Look, don’t worry about it. I’ve got Harry’s cloak, I’ll go myself, I’ll take care of everything so- don’t worry about it.”

With that she stormed off, not giving any of them the opportunity to change their minds, not that they would.

By the time the apparition exam was starting Kim’s anger had worn off, but she was too embarrassed by her outburst to meet up with Hermione and Ron, so she elected to spend the time with Clemon instead. Both of them passed the test with no problem, as well as Hermione. Ron, however, left half an eyebrow behind, and was hence failed. Kim busied herself with homework in the library for the rest of the afternoon, waiting for evening to arrive. It didn’t take long however before someone was strolling boldly up to her and saying, “Hey Kim, let’s go to this funeral.”

She looked up to see Harry, standing full and tall with an air of something unusually confident. Had he just won the quidditch cup, this attitude would only be slightly unusual. For a day like today?

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked as Ron and Hermione came hurrying in after Harry.

“Felix Felicis,” Harry said simply, making Kim snort immediately at the sexual innuendo. Harry laughed light too, realizing what he’d said. “Come on, you’ve got the cloak, so let’s get going.”

“All right… so we’re really going to the funeral?” she said, frowning at Hermione and Ron uncertainly.

Ron shrugged. “This is all his idea, I’d rather face a room of Death Eaters.”

“Let’s go, let’s go,” Harry said in a very light and carless way, like he was talking to children. Kim followed none the less. As they made their way down the stairs to the entrance hall Harry bounced closer to her side.

“Let’s have that cloak now,” he said, lifting the strap of her bag and looking in.

“All right, all right.” She batted his hand away and pulled forth the cloak. He took it without question and just as they reached the level floor he swung it over both of them, leaving Hermione and Ron to follow visibly in their wake.

“What about Hermione and Ron?” Kim asked. Harry looked at her and then shrugged theatrically. It seemed as though he truly had no idea what he was doing, and yet knew _exactly_ what he was doing at the same time.

“What are you doing with _her_?” shrieked Lavender Brown, staring right through Harry and Kim to where Ron and Hermione were walking side by side, quite close to one another, down the stairs. Ron started to splutter but his voice was growing distant as Harry made no pause in his path towards the front doors. For a moment, as Kim stumbled to keep up with Harry who seemed to be effortlessly strolling along with no regards to her, she wondered how they were going to get through the door without anyone seeing it open seemingly on its own and come to investigate. But the next moment the answer was made obvious: Felix Felisis.

Dean and Ginny came through the front door, leaving the perfect chance for Harry and Kim to slip through. But Harry wasn’t moving to go around them, he was headed straight for them. Kim almost whispered to him urgently, but her tongue stumbled over itself so she only made a tiny noise that couldn’t even be heard over footsteps. She grabbed hold of Harry’s sleeve, now staggering behind him and trying desperately to stay covered. He plowed right between Ginny and Dean, bumping Ginny in the arm and not stopping or even slowing, as if he hadn’t even noticed.

“ _Don’t_ push me, please, Dean,” Ginny said, sounding annoyed. “You’re always doing that, I can get through perfectly well on my own…”

Kim managed to get beside Harry once more to see that he was smirking happily. Felix Felisis was meant to grant the user extraordinary good luck, which meant all or most of the odd happenstances going around were all things that benefited Harry. The breaking up of Ron and Lavender Kim of course understood, that was beneficial for everyone involved, but Ginny and Dean? Unless…

“You like her,” Kim breathed. And it must’ve been true unless Felix Felisis made everyone else around extremely unlucky instead of doing the opposite to the drinker. But judging by Harry’s widening smile and dazed happy look, her guess was right.

They made their way in the fresh air of outside until Harry suddenly took a sharp turn heading instead for the green house.

“What are you doing?” Kim asked as she struggled to keep up with him. She managed to remain under the cloak by clutching the fabric at his shoulder and keeping hold of it, in case he decided to make any other abrupt turns.

“Heading for the vegetable patches,” he said dreamily.

“Yes, but _why_?”

“Don’t you think it’d be lovely to walk through them at this time of evening?” he said, smiling warmly down at her. Kim screwed up her face but didn’t bother to ask. Clearly this was the potion working yet again. As they neared the vegetable patch the voices of Professor Sprout and Slughorn made their way to Kim’s ears.

“I do thank you for taking the time, Pomona,” Slughorn was saying as Harry shifted direction suddenly to move behind a low stone wall, almost making Kim squeak with the effort to follow him. Luckily she was still clutching his robes, so when he darted to the side she was pulled with him, bouncing off his chest and coming to stand, glairing up at him irritably.

“Most authorities agree that they are at their most efficacious if picked at twilight.”

“Oh, I quite agree,” said Professor Sprout warmly. “That enough for you?”

“Plenty, plenty,” said Slughorn who was carrying an armful of leafy plants. “This should allow for a few leaves for each of my third years, and some to spare if anybody over-stews them… Well, good evening to you, and many thanks again!”

Professor Sprout headed off into the increasing darkness and Slughorn began to head in the exact direction that Harry and Kim stood, huddled beneath the invisibility cloak. And then, with no warning, Harry ripped off the cloak with a flourish. This time Kim did squeal a bit, moving instinctually away from Harry and attempting for a hiding spot, but of course there was none.

“Good evening, Professor,” Harry said so uncharacteristically warm and charming he sounded like he was acting in a play.

“Merlin’s beard, Harry, you made me jump… and Kim,” said Slughorn, surveying her tousled appearance from having the cloaked ripped over her head only after stumbling through the grounds after Harry. “I never would’ve thought the two of you…” he said, looking between them. Kim didn’t understand at first.

“Why not, Kim’s a wonderful person,” Harry said lightly. Rather than being flattered she frowned at him, both in bewilderment and indignation. “Certainly you think so as well.”

This made Slughorn stammer a moment, and perhaps that was the goal. Set him off guard. “Of course I do! You know that, she’s one of my favorites! But it’s for that _reason_ I’d never have expected either of you to sneak out here like _this_.”

Suddenly Kim realized what he must think and heat flooded her face. “Oh, _no_ ,” Kim insisted, shaking her head and her hands as if to increase her conveyance of _no._ “We’re not- no, we weren’t—”

“Now, Kim. Don’t think this is my first time around the block when it comes to these things,” Slughorn said, putting his fists on his hips and looking at her slyly.

Harry leaned toward him an inch, as if divulging a secret. “We really are just friends, professor.”

“Really?” he said, now baffled again. “But you just said—”

“I was only teasing,” Harry said theatrically and then threw his head back and laughed. Slughorn laughed uncertainly along with him and Kim just grimaced at the whole situation. She very much wished she had told Hagrid _no_ and had remained in the library with her homework that she still had yet to finish. _Maybe Felix Felesis does drain the luck from everyone else around…_

“But, if you’re not here for- well, then what _are_ you here for? You know its past curfew.” He looked between Harry and Kim, and much to her discomfort Harry shifted his gaze to her expectedly.

She gestured to herself and raised a brow as if to say _me?_ Harry continued to stare at her expectantly, as did Slughorn. She let out a huff and slumped her shoulders in defeat.

“You see, Professor, it’s- well, it’s Hagrid. He’s very attached to his creatures, and one of them, one he’s been particularly close for a very long time, has died. He’s… a total wreck, to be honest, and I don’t think he can carry on properly until there’s been a burial. That’s why we’re going. We were trying to help Hagrid.”

“Oh…” said Slughorn, his authoritative tone drained. “Well, that does seem important… admirable, even.”

“Yes, so we best be on our way, professor,” said Harry. “It’s an acromantula, so, as I’m sure you know, it’s very large.”

At this Slughorn looked at Harry abruptly and then let his gaze drift to the distant lights of Hagrids cabin. “Acromantula, ay…”

“Oh yes, a very big one.”

“You know…” he said, pondering aloud, “their venom is very valuable… if the beast only just died, it might not yet have dried out… Of course, I wouldn’t want to do anything insensitive if Hagrid is upset… but if there was any way to procure some… I mean, it’s almost impossible to get venom from an acromantula while it’s alive…”

Suddenly Kim could see how all this was meant to line up. Hagrid, Aragog, Professor Slughorn, and herself. For a moment she felt she knew exactly what she was supposed to do and wondered if that was how Harry had been feeling this whole evening.

“I’m sure I can talk him into it,” Kim said. “Don’t worry, just come with us. I know Hagrid very well, you see, so… it should be no problem for me to smooth things over with him.”

“Oh,” Slughorn said, seeming too pleased to be suspicions of this type of offer, “you would do that?”

“Certainly. I know how rare the venom is. I’d be glad to help.”

“Yes, splendid. You know, I’ll bring a few bottles… libation is really necessary for this kind of thig, don’t you think.”

Kim looked at Harry for guidance. He nodded at Slughorn enthusiastically and said, “Great idea. We’ll meet you there.”

With that, Slughorn was off and Kim was following Harry’s quick strut down to Hagrid’s hut.

“Yeh came,” croaked Hagrid after emerging from his cabin.

“Yeah. Ron and Hermione couldn’t, though,” said Harry as Hagrid let them inside. “They’re really sorry.”

“Don’- Don’ matter… He’d’ve bin touched yeh’re here, though…” It seemed he wanted to say more but a sob broke his ability.

Harry patted him consolingly on the arm and asked, “Where are we burying him? The forest?”

“Blimey, no,” said Hagrid, wiping his eyes on the bottom of his shirt. “The other spiders won’ let me anywhere near their webs now Aragog’s gone. Turns out it was on’y on his orders they didn’ eat me! Can yeh believe that, Harry?... Never bin an area o’ the forest I could’ go before!” he said, shaking his head. “It wasn’ easy, getting’ Aragog’s body out o’ there, I can tell yeh- they usually eat their dead, see… But I wanted ter give ‘im a nice burial… a proper send-off…”

He broke into sobs again and Harry resumed patting him. Kim was about to try and help in the consoling process when Harry said, quite randomly, “Professor Slughorn met us coming down here, Hagrid.”

“Not in trouble, are yeh?” said Hagrid, looking up, alarmed. “Yeh shouldn’ be outta the castle in the evenin’, I know it, it’s my fault—”

“No, no, when he heard what I was doing he said he’d like to come and pay his last respects to Aragog too,” said Harry. “He’s gone to change into something more suitable, I think… and he said he’d bring some bottles so we can drink to Aragog’s memory…”

“Did he?” said Hagrid, looking both astonished and touched. Kim felt certain this was her cue.

“He did,” she said, knowingly. “You probably didn’t know this, but Professor Slughorn has quite a soft spot for creatures like acromantula.”

“Is tha’ righ’,” he said.

“Yeah. And Hagrid, there’s an issue of a… sensitive nature that he wants to address. You see, again, you might not know this, but acromantulas have very potent and valuable venom. But the only way to harvest it safely, really, is to… _kill_ the acromantula. So, being in the line of work he is, Slughorn is in a position where he and colleagues might _need_ such venom. But he hates the way it’s procured. Acromantula’s are being hunted near extinction!”

“You’re kiddin’,” Hagrid said, aghast. Kim was making all of this up, and she would feel guilty if it wasn’t for such an important cause. They needed Slughorn to stay, so he needed to have access to that venom.

“Yes, it’s very unfortunate. But he thought, and this is the good news, that Aragog’s death might not be entirely in vein, you see. If he could harvest some of his venom, it might save another acromantula’s life from being hunted to death…”

“Well… if it’s fer a good cause. I’m sure it’s wha’ he woulda wanted.”

“I’m sure it is too,” Kim said, nodding, relieved that she had pulled that off, though she supposed Harry’s luck tonight might’ve helped in the effort.

There was a knock on the door and Hagrid now let Slughorn into the cabin. He was wearing a black cravat and carried several bottles in his arm.

“Hagrid,” he said, in a deep, grave voice. “So very sorry to hear of your loss.”

“Tha’s very nice a’ yeh,” said Hagrid. “Thanks a lot. An’ thanks fer not given’ Harry and Kim detention neither…”

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of it,” said Slughorn. “Sad night, sad night… Where is the poor creature?”

“Out here,” said Hagrid in a shaking voice. “Shall we- shall we do it then?” Kim nodded, giving Hagrid a supportive pat on the back. The group of them left the cabin, Kim’s eyes quickly adjusting to the moonlight glowing white from where it glistening over the trees. Aragog lie on the edge of a massive pit beside a ten foot high mound of freshly dug earth.

“Magnificent,” said Slughorn, approaching the spider’s head, where eight milky eyes stared blankly at the sky and two huge, curved pincers shone, motionless, in the moonlight.

“It’s not everyone appreciates how beau’iful they are,” said Hagrid to Slughorn who was eyeing the spider for an entirely different reason than beauty. “I didn’ know yeh were int’rested in creatures like Aragog, Horace.”

Kim was about to interfere, to stop Slughorn from denying Kim’s professions of his love for the beasts, but Slughorn spoke before she could. “Interested? My dear Hagrid, I revere them.”

Kim cleared her throat and said, “Yes, I told him of your noble reasons for needing that venom, Slughorn. How it will certainly save the lives of other acromantulas to take the venom from this d-… um, deceased one.” She had been about to say _dead,_ but she thought it might be insensitive.

“Of course,” Slughorn said after a moment of pause. “Thank you Hagrid, for being so understanding.”

He bent down and collected some of the venom in a flask, and then stepped away from the massive body as Hagrid simpered between Kim and Harry.

“Now…” said Slughorn, pocketing the vial. “Shall we proceed to the burial?” Hagrid nodded, evidently unable to speak through his sniffles and tears. He moved forward and heaved the gigantic spider into his arms and, with an enormous grunt, rolled it into the dark pit. It hit the bottom with a rather horrible, crunchy thud that made Kim jump slightly and wince. She glanced at Harry as Hagrid started to sob loudly again, but he seemed to still be floating in a happy dream.

“Of course, it’s difficult for you, who knew him best,” said Slughorn, patting Hagrid. “Why don’t I say a few words?”

Kim was honestly impressed with how Slughorn was handling this situation. Of course he was here for slightly selfish reasons, but in Kim’s mind he more than made up for that by his sensitivity toward Hagrid’s feelings for the great spider. There were not many people who would’ve been so kind in this situation, and Kim’s respect for Slughorn had doubled from the beginning of the night.

Slughorn stepped up to the edge of the pit and said in a slow, impressive voice, “Farewell, Aragog, king of arachnids, whose long and faithful friendship those who knew you won’t forget! Though your body will decay, your spirit lingers on in the quiet, web-spun places of your forest home. May your many-eyed descendants ever flourish and your human friends find solace for the loss they have sustained.”

Kim watched on with raised brows, thinking she couldn’t have really said it better herself.

“Tha’ was… tha’ was… beau’iful!” howled Hagrid, and he collapsed onto his knees, crying harder than ever.

“There, there,” said Slughorn, waving his wand so that the huge pile of earth rose up and then fell, with a muffled sort of crash, onto the dead spider, forming a smooth mound. “Let’s get inside and have a drink. Get on his other side, Harry… that’s it…” Kim moved out of the way as the professor and student put their backs into hoisting the half giant off the ground. “Up you come, Hagrid… Well done…” Slughorn grunted as they helped Hagrid into his cabin, Kim following behind and shut the door.

There was a loud squeak of wood on wood and a harrumph as Hagrid was deposited into a chair at the table. Fang came out of his blankets and softly put his heavy head into Harry’s lap as he sat beside Hagrid. Kim came to sit beside him, and Slughorn beside her, filling the small table with occupants. Slughorn uncorked one of the bottles of wine he had brought.

“I have had it _all_ tested for poison,” he assured Harry, pouring most of the first bottle into one of Hagrid’s bucket-sized mugs and handing to Hagrid. Kim watched with wide eyes, thinking she might just get drunk tonight for the first time. After the day she’d had, after the week, the _year_ she felt she’d earned it.

“Had a house-elf taste every bottle after what happened to your poor friend Rupert,” Slughorn explained. Kim’s respect for him receded slightly, though she supposed she couldn’t completely blame him for society’s views of house elves.

“One for Harry…” said Slughorn, finishing off the first bottle and nearly the second as he filled three more cups. “One for Kim… and one for me. Well,” he raised his mug, “to Aragog.”

“Aragog,” said the three of them together. Kim put the glass to her lips and took a tentative taste. It was bitter and tart, but not unpleasant. After glancing up to see Slughorn and Hagrid taking large swigs, she did the same. The wine felt warm and tingling as it settled in her stomach.

“I had him from an egg, yeh know,” said Hagrid morosely. “Tiny little thing he was when he hatched. ‘Bout the size of a Pekingese.”

“Sweet,” said Slughorn.

“Used ter keep him in a cupboard up at the school until… well…” Hagrid’s face darkened. Kim had by now learned the story of why Hagrid was expelled from Hogwarts. He had been blamed for the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, though they knew now it was Voldemort’s doing.

“That’s not unicorn hair, Hagrid?” said Slughorn abruptly.

Kim followed his gaze to where brass pots hung on a crude metal rack along with a bundle of silky bright white hair.

“Oh, yeah,” said Hagrid indifferently. “Gets pulled out of their tails, they catch it on branches an’ stuff in the forest, yeh know…”

“But my dear chap, do you know how much that’s _worth?_ ”

“I use it fer bindin’ on bandages an’ stuff if a creature gets injured,” said Hagrid, shrugging. Kim smiled at him as she might smile at the innocence of a child. “It’s dead useful… very strong, see.”

Slughorn took another deep drink from his mug, his eyes moving carefully around the cabin now, probably searching for other extraordinarily valuable goods that Hagrid used for practical purposes around his cabin and the grounds. Kim decided to focus on her drink and took two distinct gulps of wine, refilling the small fire in her stomach that was making her limbs hot. Slughorn and Hagrid chatted at length about the creatures that lived in the forest and Hagrid’s large responsibility to look after them all. Hagrid stopped crying somewhere through the night, somewhere in his second glass of wine and deep in Slughorns flattery and in his own lengthy explanations of his creatures and duties. A half an hour later Kim had finished her glass, which by her accounts was probably more akin to two glasses and was feeling fuzzy and slow. The room swayed happily around her as she moved, and everything seemed delightfully funny.

“You know what I feel-” hiccupped Slughorn, “right now; a _toast!_ To Hogwarts; home of such extrodinill- extraordinary creatures, _and_ staff,” he said, raising his brows at Hagrid and simultaneously putting his free hand to his chest.

“To Hogwarts!” Kim and Hagrid both agreed, thrusting their glasses in the air. Harry followed suit, though she was quite sure he hadn’t had much to drink yet at all. Perhaps this was all part of some plan, but her mind was too shifty to stay thinking on it for long. She took a gulp of wine as Hagrid finished his swig and thrust his cup forward again.

“To Dumbledore,” he said heavily, pronouncing each syllable like it was weighty. “The bes’ headmaster a school could ever see!”

“To Dumbledore!” Kim and Slughorn agreed loudly, drinking yet again to the toast. Harry was chuckling good naturedly at them, which made Kim chuckle a long with him, sagging sideways slightly and grasping his arm to lift herself back onto the chair, which only brought about another bout of giggles.

“You _know_ what is _really_ worth toasting,” Slughorn said, chuckling heartily. “To elf-made wine!” He, Hagrid, and Kim laughed, drinking yet again.

“To Harry Potter!” bellowed Hagrid.

“To Harry Potter,” Kim said, surprised a bit by the way her tongue gripped the words, making them run together a bit. “My best friend. My family!” she croaked, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing him. He smiled and laughed at her lightly. It was clear to Kim even now that he didn’t understand what she’d meant, and she felt oddly disappointed, though there was a small sober voice in the back of her head that told her _now_ was not the time.

“Yes,” said Slughorn happily. “Parry Otter, the Chosen Boy who- well, something of that sort,” he mumbled and drained his mug.

It wasn’t long after that when Hagrid and Slughorn started singing a sad ballad about a dying wizard called Odo, swaying back and forth, arm in arm. Kim swayed along with the song too, and the spiny feeling it gave her made giggles slip from her lips from time to time.

“Aargh, the good die young,” muttered Hagrid, slumping low onto the table, a little cross-eyed, while Slughorn continued to warble the refrain. “Me dad was no age ter go… nor were yer mum an’ dad, Harry…” Fat tears oozed from Hagrid’s crinkled eyes again, grasping Harry’s arm and shaking it.

“Bes’ wiz and witchard o’ their age I never knew… terrible thing… terrible thing…”

“ _And Odo the hero, they bore him back home, To the place that he’d known as a lad,”_ sang Slughorn plaintively. _“They laid him to rest with his hat inside out, And his wand snapped in two, which was sad.”_

Kim snorted, finding this line to be ridiculous.

“…terrible,” Hagrid grunted.

“The good do die young, I guess,” Kim muttered, staring into the bottom of her glass, her second one now half empty. “My sister was too young… She was only a little older than I am now,” she pondered allowed, her inflection sounding not quite right, high in the wrong parts and low in the rest.

“Tha’s a…. Tha’s a life for yeh… _Terrible_ ,” Hagrid grumbled and rolled his great shaggy head sideways onto his arms and fell asleep, snoring deeply.

“Sorry,” said Slughorn with a hiccup. “Can’t carry a tune to save my life.”

“Hagrid wasn’t talking about your singing,” said Harry quietly. “He was talking about Kim’s sister, and my mum and dad dyeing.”

Kim looked up at him suddenly, his voice alarming her. She hadn’t notice him go solemn. He glanced at Kim with sorry eyes and she felt a pressure behind hers for her sister’s loss like it had just happened this year. She sniffed deeply, trying to clear her head but it was so _hot_ in the cabin it was difficult to focus on anything other than the heat in her cheeks and the sharp building of pressure behind her eyes.

“Oh,” Slughorn said, repressing a belch. “Oh dear.” He swayed, directing his gaze toward Kim. “You lost your sister?”

Kim nodded, blinking away the sudden tears. “Yes. When I as a girl… she had a- a muggle illness,” Kim said, voice hallow and feeling fresh resentment to the wizarding community for not using any of their magic to aid muggles.

“Do you remember it? I mean,” he hiccupped, “were you there?”

Kim nodded solemnly. She remembered Fran and her sun tan skin, her jingling bangles no longer around her wrists but replaced by a hospital bracelet, her eyes, staring at the ceiling, everything viewed from the crack in the door through which Kim had watched as her parent’s wept by her side.

“An’ you Harry?” Slughorn said, swiveling to look at him. “I don’t- I don’t suppose you remember it?”

“No- well, I was only one when they died,” said Harry, not looking away from the candle flickering on the table. “But I’ve found out pretty much what happened since. My dad died first. Did you know that?”

“I- I didn’t,” said Slughorn in a hushed voice.

“Yeah… Voldemort murdered him and then stepped over his body toward my mum.” Slughorn gave a great shudder and Kim watched with wide eyes. Why he was being so open all of a sudden, Kim didn’t know. His mom and dad… her… her _aunt and uncle._ The thought made her insides ach as if the loss was her own, and the burden of her secret kept from Harry felt all the more heavy.

“He told her to get out of the way,” he continued remorselessly. “He told me she needn’t have died. He only wanted me. She could have run.”

“Oh dear,” breathed Slughorn. “She could have… she needn’t… that’s awful…”

“It is, isn’t it?” said Harry, in a voice barely more than a whisper. “But she didn’t move. Dad was already dead, but she didn’t want me to go too. She tried to plead with Voldemort… but he just laughed…”

“That’s enough!” said Slughorn suddenly, raising a shaking hand. Kim disliked how quickly the mood had gone to somber and dark as well. “Really, my dear boy, enough… I’m an old man… I don’t want to hear… I don’t want to hear…”

“I forgot,” said Harry. “You liked her, didn’t you?”

“Liked her,” said Slughorn, his eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t imagine anyone who met her wouldn’t have liked her… Very brave… Very funny… It was the most horrible thing…” Kim felt her heart sink with his words, imagining all that could’ve been. Harry’s mother, alive, and Harry… who would he have been? She imagined a Harry with bright, happy green eyes, without the dark shadow that clung to his bones, without the sinking, faltering expression as all eyes turned on him.

“But you won’t help her son,” said Harry. “She gave me her life, but you won’t give me a memory.”

Kim’s eyes went utterly round as she stared, wishing more than anything to disappear beneath the invisibility cloak she had stuffed in her bag on the floor beside her chair. Slughorn’s tear filled eyes looked just as stunned as Kim’s, though he was more bravely looking directly at Harry.

“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “It isn’t a question… if it were to help you, of course… but no purpose can be served…”

“It can,” said Harry clearly. “Dumbledore needs information. I need information.” Harry leaned forward then, deliberately, slowly. “I am the Chosen One. I have to kill him. I need that memory.”

Kim stared with wide eyes and then lifted her glass, gulping down the rest of it in large sips that sloshed over the edge of her lips. Anything to not have to watch _this._ She would be fine anyway, this was only her second… but then she thought she remembered Slughorn poring her a half glass once… maybe twice. So that made… 3 or-… even as the last gulp slid down to her gut she felt her stomach turn unhappily.

“You’re scared he’ll find out you helped me?” Harry said, continuing a conversation Kim had missed some of somehow, as if she’d been absent, she hadn’t even realized they were talking. “Be brave like my mother, Professor…”

Slughorn raised his hand and pressed his shaking fingers to his mouth in a childish manor.

“I am not proud…” he whispered through his fingers. “I am ashamed of what- of what that memory shows… I think I may have done great damage that day…”

“You’d cancel out anything you did by giving me the memory,” Harry assured him. “It would be a very brave and noble thing to do.”

Hagrid twitched on the table and snored particularly loud as there was a long silence between Slughorn and Harry. Then, very slowly, Slughorn put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wand. He put his hand inside his cloak and took out a small, empty bottle. Still staring at Harry fixedly, Slughorn touched the tip of his wand to his temple and withdrew a long silver thread of memory, clinging to the wand tip. He lowered it into the bottle, sending glistening light into its glass shape, sparkling off its coils. He corked the bottle with a trembling hand and passed it across the table to Harry.

“Thank you very much, Professor.”

“You’re a good boy,” said Professor Slughorn, tears trickling down his fat cheeks into this walrus mustache. “And you’ve got her eyes… Just don’t think too badly of me once you’ve seen it…”

With that Slughorn laid his head down on the table slowly and sighed.

“Is he okay?” Kim asked after a moment, and her voice sounded unsteady, but not in a happy drunk sort of way anymore.

“Are you?” Harry asked, looking at her keenly. The room spun as she tried to turn her head to look at Harry, making her moan.

“I’m okay,” she said, but it was such an effortful breathy sound that nothing about it gave the impression of _okay._

“We better get you back to the castle. Why did you drink so much?”

“But, I didn’t have _half_ asmany’s _them_ ,” she slurred, stumbling as she tried to stand and greatly regretted it. Her stomach flipped inside her and she had to clench her jaw to stop from vomiting right then and there. The room keeled around her and her feet moved, but didn’t land at all where she’d told them to.

“Yes, but Kim, Hagrid is twice the size of a grown man, and drink’s regularly.” He put his arm around Kim’s back and took her wrist in his hand, drawing it over his neck to support her almost entirely.

“Oh god,” she moaned, looking down at the ominous three steps that led down from Hagrid’s cabin.

“It’s all right, I’ll guide you,” Harry said, stepping to the first one.

“But thereso _uneven_ ,” he moaned, wobbling as she tried to follow alongside Harry down the steps. They made it to the grass and the hard surface of it beneath her feet made her stumble. The motion made her head whirl and her stomach twist. She bent at the waist and groaned loudly as vomit seared up her throat and poured from her mouth.

“I think it’s safe to say the Felix Felisis has worn off,” Harry said bleakly.

“I’m so unlucky,” Kim moaned theatrically as another round of vomit made its way up her throat. Harry snickered at her. She wiped her mouth and said, “Shuddup! This is your fault, you can’t be mad a’ me.”

“I’m not mad,” Harry said, sounding thoroughly amused as he attempted to lead her across the grounds. She felt marginally better now that her stomach was empty, but it was still very difficult to figure out exactly where she was putting her feet. “But you do need to keep it down, or we’ll be caught. Put this on,” he threw the cloak over her head, and she marveled at how he’d gotten it. Wasn’t _she_ supposed to have it?

“I forgo’ my bag!” she said, too loudly.

“Shh,” Harry said through stifled laughs and whispered, “I got it for you. Come on.”

Somehow Harry managed to get her all the way up to the entrance to Ravenclaw tower with a combination of motivational speaking, steering her quickly into a girl’s bathroom and patting her back as she vomited into the toilet, and finally forfeiting to hoisting her off her feet and carrying her up the stairs after the third or fourth time she’d stopped to collect herself or tripped.

“It’s a unicorn, the answer’s unicorn,” Kim muttered to the entrance before it even had a chance to finish the riddle. It popped open. “Thank god it hasn’t changed.”

“Are you going to be able to get up to your room?”

“There’s _no way_ I’d be able to solve a riddle now, nah that I can usua—”

“Kim, listen. Are you going to be able to get up to your room?” he asked. “I can’t go into the girl’s dormitory, they’re jinxed against boys.”

“Oh, uhhh mmhmm,” she muttered, though she didn’t quite know what she was assenting to, only that Harry had done far too much for her all ready.

“Okay, I need to take the cloak,” Harry said, sliding if off her as she wobbled through the entrance.

“Oka—w-wait! I need it still!”

“What for?” Harry asked incredulously.

“F-for, for something impor’n,” she muttered, tripping a bit and bracing herself against the wall. She giggled pitifully. “I’m really drunk.”

Harry laughed again. “Yes, you are. Listen, you just need to drink some water and go to sleep. All right? Drink some water. I need the cloak to go see if Dumbledore is back.”

“O-okay, but jus- jus’ give it to him when you’re done!”

“What?”

“The cloak, give Dumbledore the cloak ‘n say, ‘this is from Kim’,” she mimed Harry in a very flamboyant and cheerful manor.

“Okay,” he chuckled, “I will. Water, then sleep.”

“Mkay, don’ worry, I got it,” she said, and staggered toward the bathroom. The water _did_ sound like a fabulous idea, since her throat was stinging with acrid and her mouth was dry. Harry shut the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower after a moment of looking after her uncertainly and left Kim to her own devises.


	13. What She Carried

Chapter 13

What She Carried

The next morning Kim woke up on the couch in the common room from the sounds of student’s moving all around her. She groaned and rolled into the couch more, her stomach shifting uneasily and her head pounding, like a sledgehammer was bouncing methodically against the inside of her skull.

“Kim, what’re you doing?” came Clemon’s familiarly sharp voice. “Did you sleep down here?”

Kim merely moaned in response, frowning at the light of morning and wishing everyone would be quiet.

“Are you _drunk_?”

“I was,” Kim muttered, rolling again and regretting the motion.

“ _Kim_! On a school night?”

Kim shrugged.

“Well… I’m not sure whether to pity you or be impressed,” she said, smiling like it was amusing. Kim glared at her, but a smile snuck onto her face.

“You better get up. You’ll miss breakfast, which is probably exactly what you need right now.”

Kim moaned again as she sat up, head whirling a bit, though not nearly as bad as the night before. She recalled for the first time all that had happened and realized firstly that she owed Harry both an apology and a thank you, and secondly that she wanted to know what had happened after he went to Dumbledore’s office.

“All right, I’m getting up… Ugh,” she drew out a long groan. “I need water.”

“I’ll get you some… but then I’ve got to go to breakfast!” she said hastily as she pulled out her wand and conjured a glass of water. Kim gulped down all of it, though it did nothing for her headache and her wobbling stomach.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

“You’re welcome. Hurry up and clean yourself up. I’ll see you later.” She hurried from Ravenclaw tower. Kim rinsed out her mouth and splashed her face with water. Pulling her unruly waves of dark reddish auburn hair into a pony tail, she hurried down for breakfast, stomach gurgling for food.

“You made it,” Harry remarked as Kim sat down beside him.

“Somehow. Well, thanks to you, really. Sorry about last night.”

“What happened last night?” Ron asked incredulously.

Harry smiled impishly. “I got Slughorn’s memory—”

“Oh Harry, that’s great,” interjected Hermione.

“And Kim got completely pissed!” he finished, lighting up Ron’s features.

“Really?” he asked, leaning in to Kim.

“Yes, yes,” Kim said batting them away as she stuffed a biscuit into her mouth.

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Well… I don’t know, it just felt like the right thing to do at the time. Regretted it after, though.”

“Well, I don’t know if it was strictly necessary, but it helped me get the memory.”

“Tell us how it went!” Hermione said excitedly.

“Not here,” he said, looking at the surrounding tables of students. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Mm!” Kim said, remembering something important and forcing down a half chewed bight of biscuit so she could speak. “Did you give Dumbledore the cloak? Like I asked?”

“Yes… though he seemed just as confused by it as I was,” he said, amused.

“Did you tell him I was drunk?”

“I told him you were ‘out of sorts’ but I think he might have put it together.”

“Great,” Kim said flatly, wondering if that would come up when next she saw Dumbledore.

It was that evening that Kim finally got the letter from Dumbledore telling her it was time. She went to his office, and after being invited in, stepped through the door. He was standing ominously behind his desk with his hands resting on it to either side of him, finger’s splayed and eyes peering over his glasses. It was eerily quiet for a moment as Kim stood in the center of his office, wondering if she should speak, and if so, what should she say.

“If you’re going to be mad about the drunk thing, just remember, I still got the cloak to you. _And_ I’m pretty sure it helped Harry get that memory, though I’m a little fuzzy on the details…”

Dumbledore’s serious façade cracked momentarily. “It’s all right, though I wouldn’t make it a habit on school nights.”

“I won’t. Don’t worry,” she said, thinking of the pounding in her head that had only fully subsided in the past 3 hours.

“I presume you know why you are here.”

Kim didn’t answer right away, though of course she did. Her heart was starting to thud in her chest. “Yeah, I know… it’s time... time to put the Hallows together.”

“It is. Now… before we can begin, I must advise you to _be prepared._ Anything could come forth when we combine the three. Anything could happen. There is no documented occurrence of the three ever being brought together at once. For this reason, I shall be the one to dawn all three.”

“Dawn? You mean you’ve got to put them on…”

“It’s my speculation, gathered from what I’ve found on the Deathly Hallows, in order to unlock their power they must be _possessed_ by one person. Which leads me to believe, they must be _on_ said person in order to be considered _possessed.”_

“So… if something goes wrong…”

“It will more than likely happen to me, yes,” he said. “A purposeful precaution. After all Kim, my days are numbered already.”

Kim averted her eyes to the floor. “Okay. What do I do? If something does go wrong, what should I…”

“I can’t say,” he shrugged. “It can’t be known until it happens, I’m afraid. But don’t fret, Kim. For I am, if I do say so humbly myself, a very skilled wizard.”

Kim cracked a smile, but her eyes remained worried. “All right. Let’s do it then.”

“Yes, let’s. Be ready,” he reminded again. “And if it seems there is little hope for me, Kim… flee. Save yourself.”

Kim grimaced but she nodded all the same, spreading her feet slightly and gripping her wand tight in her clammy palm. Dumbledore’s gaze dragged away from her slowly and to a hand carved box with a thick metal latch. He slid the latch and opened the box. As he drew out Harry’s cloak she saw that he already had on the ring, decorating one of his blackened fingers. He wrapped the cloak over his shoulders, making them disappear, though the center of his body and his head were still visible. Only the wand left. It sat on the edge of his desk. He reached forward and wrapped his withered fingers around the grip, drawing it slowly up into the air. He held it poised, eyelids lulling closed. Kim didn’t breath. She stood painfully still, the only thought in her mind; _here it comes._

But nothing came.

Dumbledore opened his eyes and looked down at himself. There was nothing, no visible change, no sound, nor a feeling of any kind to signify that he had done it, that the power of the Deathly Hallows had been unlocked.

“Anything?” Kim asked, though it seemed from his expression that he was thinking the same as she.

“No… nothing…” She didn’t think Dumbledore had ever sounded… disheartened. Almost broken. “It didn’t work…”

“But-… how can that-…” Kim couldn’t quite speak it. _It didn’t work. Nothing happened. We figured it out, we found all the Deathly Hallows and_ it didn’t work…

“Maybe we did something wrong,” she offered. “M-maybe I was wrong about Harry’s cloak!”

“No… you were correct about the cloak,” he said solemnly. His arms rest limply by his sides now. He released his wand onto the desk in forfeit. “We had all the Hallows…”

“But then how-… Why didn’t it work?” she demanded in a high, panicked voice.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly, sliding the cloak off his shoulders and folding it up into the box once more. Kim slumped down in the chair beside her as Dumbledore stared at nothing.

“What do we do now?” she said.

There was a long pause where Dumbledore did not move, did not look from the fixed spot he stared, did nothing at all. Then he drew in a small breath and blinked slowly, saying in a very tired voice, “I don’t know.”

He latched the box on his desk and picked it up, moving it to a table in the corner of his office. Kim watched him blankly, mind still trying to accept that after all they had gone through, nothing… nothing to come of it. He came back to his desk and sat, breathing deeply and cupping his chin in his hand.

“It’s possible we missed something,” he said, voice sounding much more himself.

“Like what?” Kim said with a shrug, the desperation of the situation truly taking her.

“I… I’ll have to do more research. It’ll take time.”

“But we’ve already _read_ everything there _is_ on the Deathly Hallows,” Kim said, leaning forward slightly and raising her voice. She didn’t mean to yell at Dumbledore, but if she didn’t yell a little she might explode. “There’s nothing left to find, we did everything right!”

“Perhaps not!” Dumbledore said forcefully. Kim bit down and looked out the window, head shaking side to side in small motions she didn’t even realize she was doing.

“Perhaps not…” she echoed, but there was no life to her voice. “Perhaps there was never any hope at all… Perhaps there never will be.”

“You must not lose hope, Kim.”

She laughed a cold, bitter laugh. “Didn’t you hear what I said? There never _was_ any to have, or to loose… Harry’s fucked, we’re all fucked.” She slumped into the seat across from him and pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. She wished she had the energy to scream. Maybe that would make her feel better. Instead she didn’t feel she had the energy to move, let alone face the world, face Harry, face what she knew would become of him if he were to succeed, and what would become of everyone else if he failed. “There’s no winning,” she whimpered.

“Get some rest, Kim, if you can,” Dumbledore said gently, which she supposed was more than she deserved since she just swore at him, the _headmaster_ no less. “I don’t think I was mistaken to involve you in this, but… it is rather taxing for a young person. For any person. So I charge you with a different task.” Kim looked up at him wearily but willingly none the less. “Try not to think of this for some time. A week. Two. However long you need. Forget what we’re doing, forget our mission. Clear your head and enjoy the presence of your friends. Be with them. After all, what parts of life are worth saving must be lived whenever possible, or it’s wasted all the same.”

Kim sighed and found that she didn’t have it in her to argue. She leaned against the back of the chair, head tilted up so she could only stair at the ceiling when she said, “Okay… I’ll do it.”

“I’ll continue our work. If I find something…”

“You’ll let me know,” she said for him, sensing that perhaps he was asking a silent question. _Do you still want to do this?_ And though she didn’t want to, not at all, she still said, “I want to know if you find something.”

“You will,” he agreed, but there was still no joy in his tone. He cleared his throat stiffly, an uncharacteristic mannerism. “Go on then,” he said, gesturing toward the door. Kim stood mechanically, surprising herself that her brain was even able to give such a command to her limbs. She moved to the door and opened it by muscle memory. As she turned to leave she said, “Good luck,” though she wasn’t sure why. He merely nodded at her gravely. She closed the door between them.

* * *

“Kim, what’s been the matter with you lately?” Clemon asked critically as she came around the foot of Kim’s bed. It was Saturday and she was laying out on her back atop the covers. Kim elected to respond to Clemon’s questioning with a groan, making her sigh and sit harshly down on her bed next to Kim’s. Strix who had been perched atop the pillow that was just above Kim’s head slid forward a bit as she shifted and decided Kim’s head would be a better perch. At first Kim was going to allow it but then a talon scraped down the side of her face and pinched as Strix tightened her grip to steady herself, making Kim squeeze shut her features.

“Ow, Strix,” Kim complained, reaching up and clasping her fluffy feathers gently between both hands. “You might be small but your talons are still sharp you know.”

Clemon shook her head lightly, still staring at Kim as she set Strix down on her stomach instead.

“You know you can’t avoid me,” Clemon said. “I sleep right next to you, you can’t ignore me forever.”

“You managed it for some time,” Kim retorted, remembering the long period of a number of months in which Kim and Clemon didn’t say a word to each other beyond ‘excuse me’ when they got in each other personal space trying to get dressed in the morning.

Clemon scowled at her, crossing her arms. Kim sighed heavily, feeling a bit guilty now.

“What do you want?” she said in a mockingly defensive voice, wanting to lighten the mood but not really having it in her to feel any lightness herself.

“I want to know why you’ve been cooped up in here for weeks now,” she said. “Have you and Potter gotten into another fight or something?”

Kim stared at the canopy on her bed. She had stuck a picture of Fred and George between the frame and the fabric so it could be seen poking out the edge. At this moment Fred through his arm around George and started punching him playfully in the ribs, George looking both disgruntled and amused at the same time.

She couldn’t tell Clemon the real reason why she’d been moping for weeks now. She knew Dumbledore had told her to take time off to see her friends, to lighten her spirit. But Harry, Ron, and Hermione were her friends, and spending time with them only made her think of how she and Dumbledore had failed them.

Harry was going to have to die. He was going to hunt for the horcruxes to destroy Lord Voldemort, and then he was going to destroy himself before the end. It was so cruel. So impossible to reconcile. She wanted to tell Harry, to warn him, do _something_ to ease the burden of his fate. She hadn’t yet only because she felt she should discuss it with Dumbledore first, since he had forbade her from telling Harry anything about their mission.

“So it is Potter then,” Clemon said, taking Kim’s long silence as confirmation.

“No,” Kim lied halfheartedly. “It’s not that. Look, you’re right. I’ll go get some dinner, I shouldn’t skip.”

“No, you really shouldn’t… whatever it is, Kim…” The sincerity in her voice made Kim pause in her standing up and progressing towards the exit. She turned to look at the genuine concern in Clemon’s features. “Well, you can tell me, is all… you can talk to me.”

“…Thanks. I know. I’ll see you later,” she said, turning once more and leaving the dormitory with Strix on her shoulder

She sat down across from Harry. Ginny was beside him. They had started dating now, though Kim was fuzzy on the details on how exactly it’d happened. She supposed this was clear evidence she’d not been present in her own life lately. Normally such an event would be one for demanding all the details and making jokes about for weeks. Ron sat on the other side of Harry and Hermione next to Kim across from them.

“Where’ve you been?” Hermione asked with the same air of concern as Clemon.

“Around,” Kim said with a shrug. “Just been busy with school stuff.”

Hermione didn’t seem satisfied by this answer but she didn’t press it. Kim took a biscuit and buttered it, deciding it was the only thing she could image eating at the moment, not feeling hungry at all. Ginny gave an amused chuckle, peering down the table at something.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Fay,” Ginny said. “She keeps peering down here like we’re juggling fire or something.” Harry looked where she had been gazing, not inconspicuously in the slightest. “I swear… is this what it’s like to be you all the time?”

Harry’s face lit up and he looked down at her, smiling warmly if not a bit silly. “I’ve stopped noticing,” he said with a shrug. On a normal day, Kim told herself firmly, this kind of thing would make Kim roll her eyes. Today it was building up a pressure behind her nose that made her vision blur. Harry looked up at her, feeling her gaze on him and their eyes caught. They were so green. Green and vibrant and _alive._ He looked at her, expression folding slightly as concern crossed his mind. Concern because he was her friend… he was her _family._

And she was just going to let him die.

“I just forgot something I’ve got to do,” Kim said abruptly, standing so fast that Strix had to flap her wings to stay perched. “I’ll uh… I’ll see you guys later,” she muttered.

“But you haven’t eaten anything,” Hermione objected.

“Not hungry, really… see you,” she said hastily and turned down the path between tables. She hadn’t known exactly where her feet were talking her except for _away_ until she realized there was only one person who she could talk to about this.

“Dumbledore, it’s Kim,” she said to his door, having already given the gargoyle the password and rode up the stairs. “Can I come in? I just… I wanted to talk to you…”

“Certainly Kim. Come in,” Dumbledore said, his voice growing slightly louder as he, spoke as if he were coming into his office from another room. Kim walked into the office, shutting the door behind her tentatively.

“What would you like to talk about?” Dumbledore asked as Kim came to sit across from him.

“I- it’s Harry…” She let out an anxious breath and dipped her head to rub her eyes against her palms, elbows resting against her knees. “I just don’t know how to do this…”

“I understand… it’s a burden beyond your years.”

“It’s not about years,” Kim said, sitting up. “It’s a burden _no_ one… or at least not me, no matter when, no matter how old I am, it’s just… it’s not…” She shook her head. She didn’t really have words to describe what she was feeling. She didn’t know how to say that though she feared death like any mortal, she’d gladly give her life in place of Harry’s if it meant releasing this burden of guilt.

“I need to tell him. I need to talk to him,” she said urgently. “The Hallows didn’t work, there’s no way to save him, he has a right to know now. To make the decision for himself.”

“There’s no way to save him, that we yet know of,” Dumbledore corrected. “I haven’t given up just yet.”

Kim let air out her lips in exasperation, looking around in circles before landing back to Dumbledore. “What odds does he have, though? If the Hallows didn’t work, what else have we got?” Dumbledore didn’t answer. “I just… I can’t keep it a secret anymore if it’s not even for his own good.”

“But isn’t it?”

Kim just stared at him, not understanding.

“Let me pose to you a question, Kim. Don’t consider me an educator in this, don’t consider me automatically correct… I’ll gladly admit that I don’t know what is right either. So I ask you, both for your opinion, and for you to understand why I have asked you not to tell Harry thus far. Let us imagine that there _is_ no hope for saving Harry.” Kim didn’t have to try very hard to imagine it. It was sitting right on the other side of her eyelids, the darkness that swirled there constantly reminding her, _you failed._

“We now have a choice, since there is no strategic value of keeping Harry’s inevitable death a secret,” he continued. “We could tell Harry what is to become of him. Certainly there is a chance that upon hearing this news he would choose not to take it. He could go into hiding, forever, as the world was destroyed around him. And that is rightfully his choice to make… and yet, can you believe Harry to do such?”

Kim paused, though she didn’t really need to think about it. Of course Harry wouldn’t turn his back on the world. He loved being a hero almost as much as he loved quidditch. What was more, it was part of his engrained nature. Even if he wanted to do differently, the _right_ thing to do would always come to his fingertips. It was a gift and a curse, much like Kim’s own talents.

“No,” Kim said confidently. “He wouldn’t do that, he couldn’t hide. He would face his fate.”

“We are in agreement then. So, our option to tell Harry still finishes out in the same sad ending. Harry dies for the rest of us. The only difference in this scenario to the one in which we _don’t_ tell him until the very end, is that he is dragged through his task of finding the Horcruxes by his own nature, unable to quit for the guilt it would cause him, but dreading the end. Hopelessly moving forward with no happiness, no sight of a light at the end of his dark path. If Harry knows he will have to die to defeat Voldemort, he will do the same as if he didn’t know, but he will suffer all the more for the knowledge. That is why I haven’t told him.”

Kim was silent. The weight of this was setting over her, like she had been drifting lower in a sea of despair as Dumbledore spoke, and her body was now brushing the bottom where she would remain for eternity.

“As I said,” he continued solemnly, “I turn this question to you. What do you think is right? Is it wrong to lie to Harry about his fate? To give him hope when perhaps there is none? Or is it a kindness to leave him unknowing, to allow him to believe if even for a fleeting time, that there can be some life for him beyond this turmoil?”

Kim’s mind slowly wrapped around the circumstances. It was the same question that it always was. _To tell or not to tell. Certainly it is the foulest curse from hell to know what is to come and to be powerless to stop it._

“It’s wrong to lie to Harry about his fate,” she said coldly. “But maybe that’s what I’m here for. To do the dark… the cowardly, the unfavorable deeds that have to be done in order for Harry to continue. Maybe that’s my fate.” She shrugged hopelessly. “To protect Harry from the darkness around him by taking it into myself…”

Dumbledore’s brow furrowed deeply, sadly. “I wouldn’t wish such a fate on anyone,” he said, voice slightly choked in a way she had never heard.

“I wouldn’t either… but it is mine… And you’re right. We can’t tell Harry, not yet. There’s still too much for him to do, and I can’t ask him to do it with that knowledge hanging over him.”

Dumbledore nodded. “And there’s still a chance he can be saved. As long as I live I won’t stop looking… I think you’ve made a difficult, yet correct choice.”

Kim just stared at Dumbledore’s desk. It didn’t feel correct, and it felt impossible. But she would have to do it. For Harry. So that he could have a chance to enjoy what time was left.

“Am I the only one who knows?”

“As of yet, you are. There may be one other I entrust the information, but as long as you are alive…”

It only took Kim a moment to realize what he was asking. “I’ll make sure he dies,” she said, meeting his gaze with the hardened steel of her own. “I’ll make sure that at the very end, what must happen, happens.”

“As I’ve said a hundred times, it is a burden beyond your years. But still I must ask you to bear it, for it’s possible I will not be here to see it through to the end.”

Her burden. Her task. If there is no way to save Harry, she would have to kill him, or otherwise sentence him to death by issuing the information that he must die for the rest of the world to be saved from great evil. It was a task more important and more terrible than any she had ever been charged. How could she ever go back to laughing at jokes with Fred and George? To girlish desires like going to balls and watching the stars with a lover? It didn’t seem possible. It didn’t feel like that had ever been her.

“There’s something I still haven’t told anyone yet,” Kim said, looking up at Dumbledore. “I want to tell Harry but I haven’t figured out how… Harry, he’s-… he’s my cousin.”

Dumbledore looked at her in bewilderment. She couldn’t blame him, it certainly sounded as unlikely as it was.

“When I looked up his family tree… our families are related, and not that long ago were one. But my ancestry was combined with muggles, and so it was lost to the wizarding world, or at least that’s my assumption. But the magical blood in me comes from the Potter line… And I don’t know for sure, but I’m think that makes me…”

“His only family,” Dumbledore finished for her, a bit in awe. “What a strange world it is indeed.” A small smile crept up on his lips. Kim wanted to smile with him but it came as a grimace.

“Strange. And cruel. I guess it doesn’t really change anything, it just feels-” and as Kim searched for the right word, Strix leapt from her shoulder. Kim watched as it happened, too fast for her to comprehend at first, to feel anything at all. Strix dashed forward and plunged at Dumbledore faster than what should be possible for a bird. He raised his hand up in defense, reflexes fast for an old man, and Strix pecked his palm. She circled back around to land on Kim’s shoulder as Dumbledore looked down at the blood now oozing from the small cut on his hand.

Kim stared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, unable to speak or to let herself understand. Dumbledore looked at her and then paused, seeing the terror in her features and not understanding.

“It means what?” he asked, clearly having read Kim’s mind which she realized was repeating over and over _it means… it means… it means…_

“It means you’re going to die,” she breathed. Dumbledore looked at her with a raised brow.

“I’m aware of that already.”

“I know but-…”

“Kim,” Dumbledore said, sounding almost _intrigued,_ though she couldn’t imagine how, “why is it exactly that you believe this bird can predict death?”

Kim swallowed, feeling a bit embarrassed. She’d never told anyone of Strix, her theories about her and the mystery surrounding her. It had become so accepted in Kim’s mind that she had at some point stopped wondering about Strix or what she really was, though she was unsure when exactly that had happened.

“Well…” she began slowly, not certain how to begin explaining. The story started so long ago it took her brain a moment to collect all the pieces. “I think I suspected Strix was different from the very beginning. There’s always been… something about her. Something odd that I can’t quite explain. Sometimes I feel… a presence… and maybe it’s just me being superstitious, but I could swear my visions come stronger and clearer when she’s around.

“But my real suspicions began in my fourth year. The summer before, Stirx had pecked someone, just like she did to you, who later died, no more than a week later. It was natural causes, she had been sick, so her death wasn’t that odd, and neither was Strix’s behavior. She’d pecked people before… but anyway, I realized it meant something at the end of the year. When she… she pecked Cedric, right before the last challenge. I didn’t want to believe… I didn’t want to believe what it meant. But when he died, I couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Then I found a book that had an entry in it about The Strix. The name I gave her… my aunt had the idea, it just came to her… And it felt right, like that had been her name all along and she had told us somehow… The Strix is a mythical creature. No one seems to really know if it exists or not. But it’s an owl-like beast that can predict, or bring about death, depending on the legend you’re reading. Some have called her the harbinger of death, Death’s familiar. Maybe they just call her that because she comes along with Death, so it’s figurative, but… some texts describe it literally. That she is Death, the being, I mean- she’s his companion, his incarnation in this world… I don’t know if any of it is true,” she finished with a shrug. “I just know that this would be the third time she’d predicted someone’s death correctly. And that usually… usually the people she pecks die soon after.”

It was quiet for a moment as Kim imagined Dumbledore must be wrestling with the knowledge that his days were even more numbered than he’d thought.

“Is that so,” he said, again sounding bafflingly blasé and _fascinated_ by the news.

“You don’t believe me.”

“No, no, on the contrary, I believe you completely. Kim… this discovery gives me a thought… One that, if you’re correct to believe I have a limited time left, I must look into immediately. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave quite suddenly. My apologies,” he said, distracted by his own thoughts as he stood and started to pace slowly across the room.

“B- but, Professor… If you die, then…”

“Don’t worry, Kim,” Dumbledore said kindly. “Don’t worry about me. I’m an old man, and I’ve seen many things and lived a full and rewarding life. My only sadness in dyeing will be that I leave such a foul inheritance; the very problems I saw form will be left to you and yours… it’s equally a relief, though, I must admit,” he said, lifting his brow and tiling his head to the side in consideration.

Kim couldn’t help but smile sideways at him. Such an odd old man. But then there was a swelling in her chest. He _was_ an odd old man, one that had become her mentor and her friend, who was going to die… very soon…

“But,” she continued to stammer, “But if you go… I’ll be alone in this… I knew it was going to happen, just not so fast!”

“Don’t fret! We’ll see each other again before the end, I’m sure… you said I had perhaps a few days. Now, as I said, I really _must_ attend to this issue at hand. There isn’t much time.”

Kim nodded stiffly. “All right. I’ll… see you again…”

Dumbledore nodded. “Take care, Kim. And don’t let yourself be outweighed by your burdens. You’re a strong witch. You’ll do fine.”

Kim smiled at him from the doorway halfheartedly. She wanted to believe him, to see in herself what he saw. She reluctantly shut the door behind her, heart thumping in her chest.

“Strix,” she said quietly, voice echoing off the stone walls in the small dark stairwell. “Why do you have to take away so much… or are you just warning me of what’s to come…”

But she knew she was likely to never know the answer to that question, so she left it alone. She already carried too much as it was.


	14. The Grand Escape

Chapter 14

The Grand Escape 

The next morning Kim forced herself to go down to breakfast. She’d had a lousy night’s sleep, freckled with dreams of funerals and everyone she cared about slowly being picked off. She was feeling slightly better about her perpetual lie to Harry only because she was so distracted by her fear for what would happen do Dumbledore.

Strix was joining her for breakfast that morning by her own demands. Kim had tried to leave her behind but for some reason she had been extra insistent that morning that Kim allow her purchase on her shoulder.

“Hey guys,” Kim said without life as she sat down beside Hermione. Ron was on her other side and Harry across from them. No Ginny this time.

“Where were you last night? I thought you had homework,” Hermione said. Kim usually did her homework in the library, which was no doubt where Hermione had been the night before and hadn’t found her.

“Oh, I did it in the common room,” she said, trying to make it sound like it was an insignificant change in her behavior. Kim reached for a plate and looked over the options for breakfast. As she did so an odd hush passed over the Great Hall in a wave, starting with those closest to the entrance. Kim looked up to detect the cause of the disturbance as almost complete silence fell over the usually din filled hall.

Clacking down along the path beside the Gryffindor table were two men that Kim didn’t recognize in purple robes. She realized they were Department of Mysteries uniforms.

“Kim Shimmers?” said a tall man with a thick brown beard. “We need you to come with us.”

Kim frowned at them as she felt all the eyes of the Great Hall fall onto her.

“What’s going on?” Harry hissed at her from across the table, but she couldn’t answer. This had happened once before already, but that time she had expected it. This time… she had no idea what was going on.

“Now, please, Ms. Shimmers,” said the other man with dark skin and cropped, tightly curled hair.

“What is it? What’s going on?” she asked, turning toward them but not standing.

“All will be explained,” said the bearded one.

“But I have class, I can’t—”

“You need to come with us.”

“What if I don’t want to!” she retorted indignantly.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” said the black man, whose voice was ominously baritone.

“Don’t have…” Kim breathed looking at her friends in fear. “No, this can’t be right, talk to Dumbledore—”

“He has no jurisdiction in this matter. He’ll be informed. Now come with us,” the bearded man said with more edge. He placed his hand on Kim’s shoulder, making her recoil. He took this to mean she wasn’t going to come easily so he grabbed her under her armpit, the black man doing the same on her other side.

“Get off me!” she cried as Strix flapped off Kim’s shoulders and circled angrily overhead, crying agitatedly.

Together the men hoisted Kim up from the table and to her feet.

“Kim, what’s going on?” Harry bellowed, standing with his hands splayed on the table, Hermione shrieking words of concern and surprise over top of him. The Great Hall was starting to be noisy again, but not full of casual conversation, rather hushed voices and gasps of surprise.

“I don’t know. Let go of me! You can’t just take me wherever you like and not tell me why!”

“We’re taking you to the Department of Mysteries for questioning.”

“Questioning?”

“Kim!” Harry was still yelling from behind her.

“Questioning about what?” she demanded as they pushed her along down the aisle, still clutching her arms on either side. Neither of them answered her demands and all she could hear as she was carried from the Great Hall was Harry.

“Don’t worry! I’m going straight to Dumbledore, he’ll fix it!”

But Kim wasn’t so sure. It was starting to sink in what was happening. She was being taken for questioning, and not in an optional way. She was in some kind of trouble with the Department of Mysteries, which could only mean one thing. They knew she’d lied, kept things purposefully from them… Her heart thundered painfully in her chest as they stood her before a fireplace in an adjacent classroom.

“Buzz off you pest!” bellowed the black man at Strix who was still flapping over head as the bearded man threw the floo powder into the fire. Leading her through green flames she was soon not in the main entrance of the Ministry, but in a room she didn’t recognize. It was dimly lit with a single chair in its center and little furniture to speak of otherwise. Strix must’ve followed behind in the fire because Kim could still hear her flapping angrily overhead. Kim squirmed in fear as she saw that the chair in the center of the room had shackles on its arms.

“What is this?” she demanded, fighting as the men pushed her into the chair. “What are you doing?”

“You would do well to stop fighting, Ms. Shimmers,” came a familiarly cold voice that raised the hairs on the back of Kim’s neck. It was Mr. Shrenn, his beak like nose and cold eyes becoming visible as Kim’s eyes adjusted to the dimness of the windowless room. He stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back.

“We merely need to ask you some questions. It would behoove you to cooperate.”

“Ask some questions my ass!” she yelled as the men shoved her arms into the shackles and clamped their cold mettle around her wrists.

“Get her wand,” warned Mr. Shrenn. The bearded man reached into her robes as Kim squirmed, trying to shove her pocket against the arm of the chair so he couldn’t reach in, but no use. He dug out her wand and handed it to Mr. Shrenn who placed it delicately into his own pocket. His black hair sheened slick in the faint bluish-white light coming from a lamp on the wall. There was a desk in the corner with bottles and some papers neatly arranged on it. It faced Kim, making her realize where she must be. An interrogation room. She wasn’t being questioned. She was being interrogated. Which meant she needed to stop fighting uselessly and start guarding her mind from intrusion.

“Now, Ms. Shimmers,” began Mr. Shrenn, pacing slowly, methodically in front of her as the other two men stood guard on either side of her chair. “Don’t pretend as if you haven’t an idea why you’re here. What this is about… I’m certain you know.”

“I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about!”

Mr. Shrenn swooped in to be merely inches from Kim’s face, making her gasp in start and lean back. His cold eyes squinted at her incredulously.

“You lie,” he hissed. Kim closed her eyes for just a moment, just long enough to conjure up a cloak around her mind, a distraction. The best defense was something mundane, something she could allow Mr. Shrenn to see and keep him from realizing she was proficient at occlumency. Certainly if he realized what she was doing, he would push forcefully into her mind and make it impossible for her to protect herself.

She felt him enter her conscious, and she allowed him, but she only showed him what she desired. Her confusion, her fear of what was to come, the genuine emotions that she’d felt when they had first entered the Great Hall. His eyes narrowed at her and he stood.

“Well…Let us see if we can enlighten you then. You are here as part of our department wide investigation. It became quite clear to authorities above that things were becoming far too lax. Hence Mr. Branderbon’s replacement.” He smiled coldly. “After reviewing your records it seems clear there are some holes. For instance, was it or was it not you that reported a vision revealing the location of Serious Black?”

“Yes,” she said, managing to sound steady though her heart was punching into her stomach.

“And are you aware that your vision, though thoroughly investigated by the Ministry, turned up _no_ leads?”

“How would I be aware of that?” This was the truth, so she clung to her naivety so that if Mr. Shrenn tried to enter her mind again that would be what he saw.

“Well, it has been made known to our department that, during your mutinous invasion of the Department, you were aided by a group of unlikely allies,” he said quizzically. “Among them were aurors… and Dumbledore himself… and one _Serious Black_.”

Kim’s insides racketed around without her permission. _What do I do? Do I lie? Fein ignorance?_ It seemed like her only option. “H-how is that possible? When Serious Black was an enemy to everyone, why would he help us? Perhaps he was there fighting on the other side,” Kim reasoned. She drew up the memory of Serious walking through the cow scattered hillside. The memory was still fresh in her mind and cut perfectly from all her practice and rehearsal of it. She brought it out just in time because she once again felt Mr. Shrenn entering her mind. She carefully showed him the false memory, offering it up as evidence that she had truly had the vision.

“We thought that as well,” said Mr. Shrenn menacingly, “ _at first._ But it has become clear, with new information, that he fought against death eaters in the battle. It was there that he was in fact killed by one.”

Kim pushed the memory of this away sharply and focused only on her old vision as Mr. Shrenn watched her scrupulously. She could feel sweat beginning to from on her brow from the pressure of concentration, her limbs feeling hot and itchy.

“You knew Sirius Black! You were his ally! Admit the truth and we can cut a deal for you, Ms. Shimmers. The more information you give us about your discourse with Mr. Black, the more lenient we can be with you.”

“I don’t know anything! I saw the vision, I reported it, just like I was supposed to,” she said breathlessly. She felt Mr. Shrenn pushing harder against her mind and she had no choice but to push back. She concentrated very hard to maintain a gentle push so it might still be unknown to him what she was doing. All her determination and will power no longer came from a hope to save herself. That hope seemed dwindling at best. If they were containing her here, interrogating her like this, she might already be as good as a prisoner, awaiting delivery to Azkaban. But she couldn’t give in. Not when information about The Order of the Phoenix, their secrets and all their members, rode on her ability to block out Mr. Shrenn.

“I know you’re lying,” he said savagely. “I know you knew Serious Black, and I know you lied about it. Tell us the truth! It will come out eventually by your will or mine.”

“I’ve given you my answer and I’ve given you all the information I have. Let me go, you can’t just keep me here!”

“Tell me about that night. The night you betrayed your loyalty to the Department of Mysterious and let your friends break in and destroy Ministry property!”

“What do you want to know?” Kim asked, carful to drag out memories of the beginning of the fight, before Sirius arrived. They entered together. They made their way to the room with all the prophecies stored in glistening orbs. They were apprehended by Death Eaters. They were split up—

“I want to know why Sirius Black came here that night to save you!” Again he pushed hard against Kim’s memories and she pushed back, offering only the safe images.

“I don’t know!” she yelled as Mr. Shrenn bent close to her face again. “Maybe he wanted to kill Harry himself! They said that’s why he broke from Azkaban, don’t they!”

Mr. Shrenn scowled at her and pushed harder still against her mind. Kim had no choice but to push harder. He then dawned an expression of mutiny, standing to his full height and looking down his nose at Kim in disgust. 

“Why you little- The bastard’s taught you occlumency!” And with that Kim felt Mr. Shren force his way into her mind. For a moment she lost grip of herself and her memories spun in front of her. But she fought it, focusing on the first safe image that came into her mind. She sat cross legged on the floor of a classroom, the smell of smoke fresh in her nose, the lights drifting away as she delved deep into her own darkness. Mr. Shrenn pushed firmly against her, but she had locked onto the memory securely.

“Bah!” he exclaimed and began to pace in a rage. He then paused and addressed the men on either side of Kim’s chair. “Stay and guard her,” he instructed and then swept from the room, purple robes swirling behind him before he slammed shut the door.

Kim sat in silence for an immeasurable amount of time. It felt like a lifetime but there were no windows or clocks to aid her in measuring the passage of time. Her limbs grew stiff in the chair, her knees starting to ach from staying in the same position for so long. After a while she managed to spot a dark oval form sitting behind a dim light so it was hardly visible. She realized after a moment of staring that it was Strix, who had indeed followed Kim through the fire place. All that distinguished her to Kim was her small talons wrapped around the iron of the light fixture, more exposed to the directed glow of the dim magic light.

“I’ve got to pee,” Kim lied. In reality she was aching to stretch her limbs.

“Go ahead then,” the bearded man said plainly. Kim frowned.

“But I can’t!” She rattled the clamps against her wrists.

“Nothing’s stopping you,” he said, looking down at her with a disgusting smile. “Don’ worry, we’ll clean up after you.”

Kim realized he was telling her if she wanted to pee she’d have to do it right there, soiling herself. Her face crumpled in disgust and she turned back to look forward, not wanting him to see her face get hot. This kind of cruelty scared her. Not because she couldn’t take it, but because it foreboded of much worse to come if she didn’t give them what they wanted. _No. They can’t keep me here forever. And I can’t give up hope. I’m going to get out of this. I just have to hold out until Dumbledore finds a way to get me out. I_ can’t _give information about the Order, or all the secrecy they still have will be blown. Their lives depend on me keeping their secrets right now. I don’t have a choice._

It was a very long time until something else happened. The men who were guarding her were exchanged for two new, apparently their shift being up. Kim’s limbs radiated with aching pain and her body started to feel sick, poisoned not by a physical toxin but by being locked in one position for so long, unable to use the bathroom, unable to eat or sleep, unable to think clearly or hear anything other than the sound of air moving about her eardrums and the occasional sound of a sniff or a cough from the guards. This was torture. They were trying to torture her, and it was working. She had already contemplated a few times giving up a small amount of information about Sirius. It would end this terrible monotony and if she was carful she could only reveal information about a man already dead. What more harm could come to him?

_No!_ she had to scream at herself from time to time. _They are trying to break you! If you slip even a little they’ll be able to break into your thoughts the rest of the way. You’ve got to hold them off and feign ignorance. If you can convince them you’re innocent… that’s the only hope you have…_ But it seemed like such a small hope Kim could barely feel it over the terribleness of her current existence.

“Ms. Shimmers!” Mr. Shrenn broke into the room so suddenly it made Kim jump painfully, hitting her head against the back of the chair. “We are going to try this again. I am going to give you one last chance to tell me what you know…”

Kim didn’t say a word. Truthfully she didn’t know if her voice would still work. Her lips were so dry just the motion of opening her mouth cracked them.

“Speak! Tell me why Sirius Black came to your rescue! Tell me what group he was allied to!”

Kim averted her eyes from Mr. Shrenn, feeling him begin to tear through her mind. She was too frazzled to be quick with her occlumency. All she had left was sheer force, so she drove him from her mind with all her might.

He swooped low to be on her level, fingers clutching hard against her face. He squeezed her jaw and forced her head up and pressed her hard against the back of the chair.

“Look at me!” he growled as Kim’s head thundered from being slammed against the chair, her eyes peeled as wide as if she were looking at an oncoming train. His eyes pierced into hers and pushed against her defenses.

“No!” she screamed long and ragged. She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing hard against Mr. Shrenn’s intrusion. He pressed his fingers into her closed eyes, his other hands still squeezing her jaw to stop her from squirming away. He lifted her lids, eyes rolling in their sockets in an attempt to escape his gaze.

“Tell me your secrets,” he hissed.

“I won’t!” she screamed, gritting her teeth against his will, eyes beginning to stream with tears from being forced painfully open and unblinking.

“You will not outlast me!” he screamed. “It is futile! You’ll be left in this room to rot until you give forth your secrets!”

With a sudden streak of defiance Kim jutted her head forward so sudden and fast that his hand pressing against her jaw didn’t stop her. She slammed her forehead against his nose, making him recoil as the soft cartilage was smashed against the hard bone of her head. It was sharp and painful against her already pounding scull, but it was worth it to blink out the stinging from her watering eyes and to look up at Mr. Shrenn, sputtering and grasping his face. His nose was red and his cheeks were growing ruddy as well, but it didn’t appear broken. Still his eyes turned down to her lividly.

“Fine,” she said menacingly, her voice dry and crazed like nothing she’d ever been. “Leave me to rot then. You’ll never make me say a word.”

His face drew blank and then twisted from hatred to a sick pleasure. He smiled at her evilly. “Oh but you will… you see, I seriously doubt you’re so skilled in occlumency that you can defy the effects of _truth serum_.”

Kim’s features went slack. With a look of satisfaction Mr. Shrenn turned on his heels and slammed the door behind him as he left.

Kim felt her body going limp as the adrenaline wore away from her. She had lasted this long, something to be proud of. Her stomach was screaming and twisting with hunger and her joints had at this point gone sickeningly numb. She thought she might lose a limb if she didn’t get up soon, get circulation back into her body. And even for all her efforts, she could not outlast truth serum. That would take a skill in occlumency she was certain she didn’t have. If she was still to have hope, her only option was escape.

So she busied herself for another immeasurable amount of time attempting to puzzle an escape route. At some point exhaustion won out and she fell asleep, awaking only to the feeling of wetness on her legs and lap. She squirmed in the dimness, realizing with terror and disgust that she’d soiled herself in her sleep.

“Ugh,” said one of the guards. “Disgusting.” He waved his wand and the wetness was sapped from her clothes. It wasn’t relieving, though. The shame burnt hot all over her face and neck and she was unable to fall back asleep after that even though exhaustion and hunger was making it all but impossible to concentrate. She found herself pondering sometimes on what water and food would feel like against her tongue. Her mouth had turned to sandpaper, and with no saliva left, she could barely feel her tongue at all in her mouth.

_Focus Kim!_ She tried to force away the constant wonder of what time it was, what day, and how long she’d gone now without food or water. _Would they let me die in here… not without extracting the truth first… Focus! You’ve got to get free._

_Think… think…_ Though it was difficult to focus through all the discomfort and panic she forced herself to list off things that she still had control over, things she could still do even when chained up in the hopes of coming up with an escape plan. The list was not long.

_I can still do divination… and occlumency… which means, I can still do legilimancy. Okay, not bad, what does that get me? What can I do with that? I could look into the guards’ minds. Maybe there would be some sort of information that could help me. Yes, knowledge. Knowledge is power. But if I’m going to do this, I’m going to have to go carefully… this whole plan will end quickly if they realize what I’m doing._

Kim had never performed legilimancy without someone knowing except once, on Harry, and she was pretty sure he might’ve realized it if he hadn’t been so torn up by grief at the time. But she had been able, at least for a little while, to block Mr. Shrenn access from her mind without him knowing she was doing it. She figured that stealthy legilimancy probably followed the same rules.

Slowly, she intruded into one of the guards’ minds. His name was Berkly. From what she could glean from a quick dip into his mind, he wasn’t skilled in occlumency, which would certainly make it easier to sneak around in his subconscious. He lived alone in London and didn’t really like working for the Ministry as much as he’d thought he would. He was a fairly new hire in the Department of Mysteries and so far it hadn’t been much better than his old job, but he was still optimistic.

_What might he know that would be useful to me… well, for one thing, if I do manage to get out of here, I’m going to need my wand to get me out of the building. So… where are you keeping it…_

She slid carefully through his mind past mundane thoughts and fond memories from Berkly’s family home in the countryside. She found memories of today, memories about work, things he was responsible for remembering. The password to one of the offices… the task he was given by Mr. Shrenn… the desk where they had stowed the prisoner’s wand, right outside the room in a wide, simple wooden desk, middle drawer, no lock.

_Yes! Okay, that’s progress,_ she though, pulling herself from Berkly’s mind. _Now I just have to figure out how to get out of here… These shackles make it impossible for me to make a break for it…_

She tried, very slowly and delicately, attempting to make it look like she was simply getting comfortable, to squeeze her hand through the clamps around her wrists. Her hand could compress very tightly into a skinny shape that she thought maybe, just maybe if she pulled hard enough… but it was no use. Without a lubricant her hand would never squeeze through such a small, unforgiving metal ring, and she couldn’t put too much of a show into attempting it either because then the guards would just apprehend her. So there had to be another rout.

_Think think think…What do you have to use to get out of here. You have the guards… short of mind control, it doesn’t seem likely that they’ll let you out… but maybe not mind control… Maybe just manipulation. If you know secrets about a person, you have a sort of power over them. Maybe I can find something about_ Berkly _that I can use against him! Something I can use to convince him to let me out, even if just for a short time!_

She started searching through Berkley’s mind again, but this time she looked for loved ones, aspirations, fears… _What’s important to Berkly… what can’t he live without…_

As it turned out, Berkly had recently endured a rough break up. The other aspects of his life had been, and still were, dismal. Clara had been the light of his life, but evidently he hadn’t done enough to keep her eye from wandering.

“Berkly,” Kim said in a mystifying voice. She was employing everything she ever learned from the theatrical Professor Trelawney. If she made it out of this alive, she’d have to thank her. “Such a beautiful woman you had.” The croak in her voice made it all the more believable.

“H-… what are you talking about?” he asked in a gruff voice.

“You know why I’m here, don’t you. I see things… things that have yet to come. And your future holds much change…”

It was quiet for a moment through which Kim could feel him deliberating. “W-what kind of change—”

“Don’t talk to her, Berkly,”said the other guard harshly.

“I see a woman with silky blond hair and a delicate tinkling voice… like bells.”

“W-… tell me her name,” he said, like he thought that would be sufficient proof that she’d actually seen his ex-girlfriend.

“Names are difficult, Berkly, because visions come as what is _seen_ … but this message is so strong… it’s so strong I’m getting the name… Clara,” she breathed it sensually.

“Clara,” he said, as though he’d like her to think the name didn’t mean much to him, though he failed miserably. “Well… you saw something?” he said in a false casual tone.

“I did… I saw her deliberating. There was… another man. One that she has lost interest in at this time. She’s come to realize that he was not nearly the man she had before, but… there’s something holding her back… making her hesitate.”

“What is it?” the eagerness in his tone was evident now.

“Berkly, don’t listen to her! She’s probably making it all up anyway.”

“Then how did she know all that stuff about Clara?” he muttered to his fellow guard.

“I can prove it,” Kim said lightly, as though it didn’t matter either way to her. “I can show you my vision for yourself… But I’d need your wand.”

“Ha! Not likely. See Berkley, I told you.”

_Too far too soon,_ she thought nervously, but she didn’t want to give up yet. _Reel him back in, Kim, and ask for something more realistic._

“Fine. Not my future. You can always just take my word for it.”

Berkly was quiet for a while. “If I did… decide to take your word for it, I mean… what is it that’s holding her back? From making her decision?”

Kim let a deep rolling laugh unfurl in her throat. “Why should I tell you, Berkly? From what I can see of you, Clara might be right to be hesitant about you…”

“What? How dare you—”

“Listen,” she said calmly. “I could tell you strait out what I saw… or, I could chose not to, and the information of how to win back your lovely Clara will leave with me.”

“How can I know you’re telling me the truth?”

“What good would lying to you do me? All I want, Berkly, is to be allowed to the bathroom. You can follow me the whole way, you can watch me if you please. I just want to be able to stand for a moment, and use a toilet. It’s common decency, at least afford me that much! If you show me that kindness, I’ll tell you what you have to do.”

“Just the bathroom…”

“Berkly, no,” said the other guard. “Mr. Shrenn was very specific—”

“Who cares, Larz. It’s disgusting, having her wet herself, for crying out loud. He treats us like janitorial staff, I for one think we’re above cleaning up after his prisoner’s mess! And she’s supposed to be one of the best diviner’s alive today. Churns out the most visions, and the most useful. I for one want to hear what she has to say about _my_ future.”

“You’re a clever man, Berkly,” Kim said, trying to keep the excitement that was thundering through her chest out of her tone. “You see through the bureaucracy of this place. Just take me to the bathroom and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

She felt the shackle on her left arm clack and then loosen. Her wrist…was free. She sighed deeply, lifting her arm and stretching her fingers, rotating her wrist. It had never felt so good and yet so painfully stiff to move.

“What are you doing, you idiot!” yelled Larz, backing away from Kim’s chair as if distancing himself from the transgression. Berkly unlocked her other shackle and Kim wrung out her wrists in her fingers.

“Thank you. All right, lead away,” she said, and hoisted herself up. She almost fell, her legs were so stiff, but after wobbling and catching herself on the chair she was able to stand upright. She stretched her legs gingerly and flexed the muscles. She knew it was likely that she would soon have to run. She should try and prepare her aching body for that as best she could.

“You’re a bloody moron, Berkly. I can’t let you do this. I’ll have to tell Mr. Shrenn,” threatened Larz.

“Tell ‘em then!” Berkly retorted, his hand on Kim’s shoulder firmly as he led her from the room. “You’re not my superior, Larz, you have a problem with how I do my job, take it up with Shrenn.”

Larz huffed and walked after them into the next room. It was much brighter and more inviting outside of the interrogation room, and there just before Kim was the desk she’d seen in Berkly’s mind. There, in the middle drawer, was awaiting her wand.

“I warned you, Berkly,” Larz said threateningly. “I tried to warn you, but I’m not going to go down with you, so I’ve got to report to Mr. Shrenn about this.”

“Fuck yourself, Larz,” Berkly barked at him as he led Kim down the hall toward the bathrooms. Kim’s heart did a flip. This was going better than she could have hoped. Now only Berkly was here, Larz having left his post. He was the only thing between her and her wand, and possible escape. Now she just needed a strategy, and fast.

Berkly was not a small man, and Kim’s body was half asleep and half stuck in robotic motions. She was starving and thirsty, and her head pulsed dizzyingly. She would not be able to take him head on. Perhaps she could make a run for the desk and get her wand, but if she was going to do so, she’d have to twist out of his grasp, and she’d have to do it soon. Now was the time, since Larz was gone, and it was impossible to guess how long until he’d be back. And they were only getting farther… and farther down the hall…

There was a shocking sound of a bird call, pricing and angry. Kim started and only saw a blur of crimson and brown darting toward Berkly behind her. She ducked instinctively, as did Berly, backing away a pace and batting at the bird that was… Strix! Kim didn’t bother to think about how or why this was happening, only that this was clearly her chance, her moment of distraction, and she had to take it.

She scrambled down the hall as Berkly flailed his arms around in the air, trying to defend himself from Strix’s claws. Kim had made it sloppily down the hallway before Berkly realized she was running at all. She would be so much faster if she weren’t limping and trying to force her body to be coordinated when it felt like someone had tied her thighs together.

“Come back here! Ugh, you pest!” he cried, still batting at Strix who kept flapping her wings in his face and making it hard for him to navigate the hallway.

Kim reached the desk, gasping for breath, and drew open the drawer. There was her wand, just like she had seen. She clutched it in her fist and whirled to point it at Berkly who was flying down the hall at her, now looking shocked at the realization that she had her wand. He reached for his own wand as he ran, just as Strix moved out of the way.

“ _Stupify_!” she screamed, and the motion rolled off her just as it was meant to, and the spell pulsed from her wand before Berkly could get a grip of his own. He was hit and fell face forward from his momentum and landed with a thud. He lie motionless on the floor.

_I did it…_ But there was no time for revelry. Larz had gone to get Mr. Shrenn not long ago, but they might’ve heard the screams, and they might not be far. Kim ran in the direction that Berkly had been leading her but she kept going past the bathroom. It occurred to Kim as she ran, having no idea where she was at all, that she could disaparate. But then again, she was fairly certain she was in the ministry of magic, in which case such a thing would be impossible. She pause for only a brief moment and concentrated on Hogsmeade station, picturing the exact place she’d like to land… but nothing happened.

“Shit,” she breathed. _That would’ve been just too easy_. The hallway so far had been luckily empty, but she was reaching the end of it, so her only choice was to slow down. She opened the door cautiously and peeked inside. It was another empty room, all the lights dimmed or off completely. She wondered if it was perhaps the middle of the night. It was disorienting to have no idea if it was day or night, how long she’d been there, or where exactly she even _was_. But after crossing the empty room and cautiously opening another door she was thankful to finally see familiarity. It was the wide round room that marked the entrance of the Department of Mysteries.

_Almost there,_ she thought with triumph. She dragged herself into the center of the room and waited with thundering impatience for the doors to stop spinning.

“Exit” she cried, and a door swung open. It was, in fact, the _only_ door one didn’t need department approval to open. She started for the door, but before she could make it two steps another one opened and out poured Mr. Shrenn and Larz.

“ _Protego_!” she shouted, blocking a blast of blue light that came hurdling toward her. Larz had stationed himself between her and the exit, and with two to one odds, her only real hope was to run. Without the option of the exit, she had no choice but to run through the door the men had come in from, and fast, before it closed. She dashed, only half managing to block another spell that send her reeling backwards, luckily in the direction of the door. She fell through it and twisted on the floor, scrambling to her feet as the door shut behind her, stopping Larz and Mr. Shrenn from following.

“No what,” she breathed, looking with dread at the room she had landed in. The Chamber of Death. Strix flapped around overhead frantically, circling over top the vail. Kim’s mind raised. She only had a few seconds before Larz and Mr. Shrenn would be bursting through that door, and she didn’t have any spells to block them out. She ran down the steps, approaching the veil for no reason other than there was nowhere else to go, nowhere she could run. Facing two well practiced wizards in a fire fight would certainly end in her loss, or worse, her death, if they decided she wasn’t worth their trouble. She found herself slipping into a plummet of despair as she came to the foot of the dais, one that she had felt once before in this room… one that she was becoming familiar with.

_This is it… this is the end of the line. I didn’t make it._

Strix dove down at Kim with the lightning speed that was all too familiar.

“Ah!” she cried as a sharp pain bit at her cheek. She reached up and touched the place where it stung and drew her fingers away. They were slick with red. It looked oddly inviting in this moment of desperation. She was so tired. And so thirsty. She thought she might give up anything to drink some water, even the Order’s secrets, every last one. Which meant there was only one safe place for her, if she was going to protect them.

She looked up slowly, drawing her eyes away from the blood on her fingers and landing on the grey stone arch, whispering in the ringing silence, dark curtain billowing as if on the breath of someone just on the other side. _Maybe Sirius will be there…_ The thought comforted her. Strix cried out from where she circled overhead, drawing Kim’s attention.

“So you think it’s time for me to die, hu?” she said, and her own calmness was alarming. She took a tentative step up onto the dais. “You’re rarely wrong…” She stared at the vail once more as she heard the door behind her slam open.

“You’ve got nowhere to run!” came Mr. Shrenn’s shrill voice. She turned, putting her hands up in surrender, the vail standing directly behind her. She could almost feel its empty stair boring into her back. _Is this really how I die... What will Fred think… and George… Will Harry know what happened here?… Will Dumbledore… Will they know why I had to go this way?_

Strix dove again at Kim’s head, though she didn’t try to dodge her. Instead of pecking at her face again, which had a warm dribble of blood working its way down her cheek, she sored passed. Kim twisted her head around to watch as she dove strait into the vail.

… _Well I wasn’t expecting that._

“Put down the wand, Kim! You’re out numbered and out matched. Just put down the wand, and we can get you some water before we continue our investigation.”

Kim turned slowly back to face Mr. Shrenn, slick black hair and cold eyes surveying her calculatingly. She didn’t want to surrender to him. Even if it meant water. She’d rather…

“There’s nowhere to run.”

She looked him in the eye, somehow unafraid in this moment and unwavering. Perhaps she herself couldn’t even fully understand what she was about to do, couldn’t grasp it enough to feel the fear she should.

“You’re wrong.” Her voice was deep and brave, and rang through the silence of the Death Chamber. And then she let go. She let herself fall back, limp, like she was diving backwards into a deep pool of cool, soothing water that would oil her rusted joints and revitalize her chalk dry lips. She felt the vail lick around her body as a breath of air passed over her, tickling and light. And then…

_I’m dead…_ she thought. _This is death… Hello Death… I feel I’ve known you for some time… it’s nice to finally meet._

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed book 4! Book 5 (the last of the Kim Shimmers fanfic series) which takes place during Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will pick up next weekend!


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